


put your sweet lips on mine

by autumnmelodies



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/M, Minor Monty Green/Nathan Miller, Minor Raven Reyes/Kyle Wick, Two Night Stand AU, i have no chill, i've probably rated this wrong, they get snowed in it's good fun, this entire fic is trash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-08
Updated: 2015-05-08
Packaged: 2018-03-29 14:32:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 23,646
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3899773
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/autumnmelodies/pseuds/autumnmelodies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“You took your clothes off so fucking fast it felt like it was a life or death situation.”</p><p>Clarke quirked an eyebrow. “Um. Never had complaints about how fast I get undressed, but okay then.”</p><p>“All right, fair enough but just – I don’t know, make it more…” he trailed off, the look on his face showing he was trying to look for the right word. “Alluring?”</p><p>“Were you going to say sexy?”</p><p>“Well I was, but I thought you might hit me.”</p><p>“I kind of want to hit you regardless,” she smirked and in reaction he rolled his eyes.</p><p>Or, the one where Bellamy and Clarke have a one-night stand but thanks to mother nature it turns into two nights and a little bit more than what they bargained for.</p>
            </blockquote>





	put your sweet lips on mine

**Author's Note:**

> Greetings, I've been working on this trashbag of a fic for like 2 months and want to cry because I finished it. I was watching Two Night Stand for the millionth time and was all like ‘ha, imagine a Bellarke au...’ and then this 23k word monster happened. I’m aware there’s a story similar to this already, I didn’t realise until I was 8k words in and had no plans on stopping, forgive me pls. It vaguely follows the storyline of the movie in the sense that they have a one night stand and get stuck because of a snow storm… everything else is mostly different tbh. I have a tendency to switch POV randomly, so yeah, get used to that, but… enjoy?

 

_Present time, 8:47am_

 

If she were to blame anyone for the current scenario she blamed Raven-fucking-Reyes. Thinking back on it now, a lot of her problems derived from the spitfire roommate of hers, and she had no clue why she hadn’t kicked her to the curb yet.

Probably because Raven was, in fact, her best friend and she could probably kick Clarke to the curb instead of vice versa. Whatever.

Ducking her head over her shoulder, blonde wisps of hair littered her vision and she internally groaned – _where the fuck was her hair tie_? Carelessly pushing the strands of hair out of her face she winced at the sight before her. The way his brown hair fell in front of his eyes was dangerous and his slightly gaped mouth threatened laughter to spill from her lips; but she shook her head clearing her mind of those god-awful betraying thoughts.

Clarke Griffin had ventured to a fucking strangers house in the goddamn middle of the night to have sex.

Maybe if he wasn’t so goddamn attractive.

 

. . .

 

_15 hours earlier, 5:31pm_

 

It had been the same routine for months now.

Get home from a shift at the bar slash diner, Grounders, where she worked; shower, getting rid of whatever smell she’d accumulated in the treacherously long shift; get whatever alcohol that was in the fridge; gracelessly fall down onto the couch and flick whatever was on the TV and mope.

Mope a lot.

It wasn’t that she hated her job; it was actually far beyond that.

Clarke liked her job, she wouldn’t go as far to say that she loved it, but it was something. It was stable, and the people she worked with were fun. She’d applied for and received the job despite her mother’s protests – “Clarke, you’re ruining every chance you’ve ever had. You’re too smart for – _blah, blah, fucking, blah_ ” – and couldn’t care less what people thought of her. She was a pretty damn good bartender as well if she was being honest.

The amount of tipping she receiving confirmed that. It didn’t matter that her boss made her wear a tank top that oh-so-generously complemented her rack… that totally wasn’t the reason she got so many tips. No way.

The moping behaviour had nothing to do with her job, no. It was to do with the fact that she felt alone, as clichéd and dumb as it sounded. The thought actually made Clarke roll her eyes at herself.

Wedging her toes between the end of the couch and its pillow, Clarke rolled back onto the pillow she was laying on, her eyes focused on the episode of Bones that was playing. An old one, she recognized, but couldn’t care less. The show was good, and she was far too lazy to move the few inches to grab the remote. Minimal effort as possible was her motto when she was in the comforts of her own home (which made her wonder if Raven would be making dinner).

“Clarke! Get the fuck up!”

Speak of the devil, and they shall appear. Rolling her eyes, Clarke turned her neck to see Raven storming through the hall with that look of determination etched on her face that frankly frightened Clarke. Slinking back into the confines of the pillow, she turned her gaze back to the TV.

She could almost feel the rolling of Raven’s eyes as she spoke her next words. “I swear to god, you need to stop moping around. It’s fucking with my mood.”

“Then leave.”

“I live here, you dick.”

Raven’s colourful vocab had been something that Clarke had to get used to, but after living with the girl for over a year you could say she was pretty down pat with it.

“I didn’t mean leave, leave, idiot. Go to Wick’s or something.” She said. Turning her neck again, she finally faced Raven and sent her a grin that she thought was convincing but only had Raven rolling her eyes for what was probably the billionth time since meeting Clarke.

“No, he’s coming here and we’re going out. We meaning you as well so get off the couch.” Clarke groaned at Raven’s words and shook her head. “Stop being a hermit, honestly.  When was the last time you went out? Like full on, drunkenly went out?”

Pouting, Clarke pondered Raven’s question before shrugging a few moments later, honestly not knowing an answer. “Not sure, maybe like… your birthday?” She mused, turning her head back to the TV.

“That was 5 months ago.”

“Mhm.” She mumbled, turning to look at Raven. “You can’t be mad, I come to The Ark every Sunday with you all.”

“That doesn’t count!”

Hearing retreating footsteps, Clarke sighed a breath of relief. She loved Raven, honestly she did, but she was slightly too much at times. All Clarke wanted to do was relax and watch TV needing time to recover from a long shift, and she planned to stay there all weekend because for once in her life, she had a weekend off.

Her moment of bliss was ruined though, of course.

“It’s the weekend and I know for a fact you’re not working, so get up,” Raven said, as she threw a dress directly on top of Clarke. Barely catching it, she brought the red slip of cloth to her line of vision and rolled her eyes. “Monty and Jasper want us to come down to The Ark for drinks, and Wick and I promised we’d bring you.”

“Drag me, you mean.”

“Stop being such a princess.”

Clarke rolled her eyes and dropped the red dress to the coffee table in front of her with a look of distaste – there was no way in hell she was wearing that. She manoeuvred her way into a sitting position, resting her hands on her knees. “Raven, I’m tired. I kind of just want to stay home.”

“That’s your excuse all the time and I’m so done with your bullshit,” Raven stood above Clarke with folded arms and a smirk dancing on her lips; the kind of smirk that screamed ‘I’m right and you know I am’. Clarke rolled her own eyes, not wanting to give her the satisfaction of knowing that.

“I don’t like drinking.”

“You’ve got a glass of wine in front of you right now.”

Clarke’s eyes flittered to the glass, glaring at it as if it had caused her the biggest betrayal.

“Look, I know you don’t want to go out because you don’t want to meet anyone, I’m not a fucking idiot. But you need to get over that idiot. I did and look where it got me.”

Clarke raised her eyebrows. “With a ‘not boyfriend’ and a lot of pent up anger?”

“Wick is – shut the fuck up. Get dressed,” she motioned towards the dress. “I’m not taking no for an answer. I will drag you to the bar if I have to.”

Raven’s voice had turned into the seething tone that scared Clarke half to death, and she knew that if she didn’t do what the girl said she probably, no definitely, would be dragged to the bar. She wasn’t going to underestimate Raven. Ever. The girl was scary.

“But it’s snowing!”

 

. . .

 

Begrudgingly, Clarke did get dressed – but the abundance of snow that was presently making its home outside limited her outfit choices. She knew The Ark wasn’t any place fancy, more of a casual bar than anything, but she did still want to look nice.

It was partly because Raven would kill her if she showed up less than presentable, and force her back into her bedroom to change which was never a good time, and would probably end in wearing that goddamn red dress. And partly because what if she met someone cute? She didn’t want to look like a slob in the event of that, obviously.

The combination of her black jeans tucked into the black, heeled suede boots was surely going to keep her warm enough, or so she tried to convince herself. A shirt that Raven would be pleased with because it, quote ‘showed off her amazing rack’ unquote was donning her upper half, with not one, but two jackets over the top.

It was really cold, okay?

Swinging her bedroom door open with force, Clarke grumbled as she made her way out into the kitchen where she immediately found Raven perched at her laptop. Widening her eyes, she ran towards the device and tried to slam the lid shut, but Raven (goddamn Raven and her catlike senses) had picked the laptop up and was walking away from Clarke. A lamented whine drew from her lips, Raven laughed.

“You’re on that dating site I signed you up for ages ago?” She asked incredulously from the other side of the kitchen, Clarke’s laptop still held in her hands.

“Please don’t drop my laptop.”

“Clarke! You actually took my advice and started online dating, I’m so proud of you,” Raven said with a smirk, balancing the laptop in one hand as she wiped away a phantom tear on her right cheek. Clarke made a move for the laptop and grabbed it out of her hands, minimising the goddamn website and shutting her laptop lid.

“It’s nothing to be proud of,” Clarke grumbled, settling down on one of the bench stools. Shaking her head, she turned to Raven and smiled. “Do you approve of my outfit?”

Raven narrowed her eyes at the blonde, shaking her head. “We’re not done talking about this. But yes, I do approve. You chose my favourite boob-complementing top,” Raven nodded once in approval.

Clarke rolled her eyes just as there was a knock at the door, and suddenly she was being pulled (see: _dragged_ ) away from her seat.

 

. . .

 

“This is a bad idea.”

“Shut up.”

Clarke rolled her eyes at Raven’s ever-present bluntness, folding her arms across her chest defiantly as they wandered through the bar towards Jasper and Monty (who were waving frantically at the trio). However, the eyes that a few male specimens were giving her as she walked through the bar made her drop her arms and pull her jacket further around her chest. Stupid shirt.

“Clarke!” Jasper’s voice rung out as he stood up and tackled the girl in a bear hug. As much as she didn’t want to be here, Clarke laughed and returned his gesture. “I’m glad you came, you hardly ever come out with us anymore.”

“That’s because all she does is mope,” Raven spoke out before Clarke could even get a peep in. Clarke glared at her best friend, who only returned with a wink as she sat down beside Wick.

Clarke rolled her eyes and with a sigh took the seat beside Jasper. She smiled across the table at Monty, waving softly as the other boy beamed back at her. “How’s mystery man going?” She teased, her eyes fluttered to the bar where she spied ‘Mr. Beanie’ that Monty had been making heart eyes at for the past… well, forever.

They were yet to learn his name because the bartenders here never wore name badges, and even though Mr. Beanie smiled at Monty every damn time he went up there he still hadn’t mustered up the courage to ask for his name.

Clarke smirked as Monty blushed and waved her off. “Shut-up, you can’t talk.” He said which effectively shut up her right up.

After a few rounds of drinks were ordered – courtesy of Monty who’d gone up to the bar and, yet again, failed to get Mr. Beanie’s name – they were all settled down chatting away. For once in what felt like months, Clarke was at ease and actually felt happy to be out. She knew she would, she was around her friends and they were the only ones who made her exceedingly joyful. Sometimes she just preferred the comfort of her own house.

It was moments like these that, of course, had to be ruined.

Walking past her with that itty-bitty waisted, tall and willowy brunette on his side was the demise of her existence. Letting out an involuntary groan, Raven looked at her with a glare, which soon turned into a look that could kill. Clarke’s eyes were primarily focused on the table like it had become the most interesting thing in the word in the past five seconds.

“Clarke?” The soft voice broke out and she slammed her eyes shut.

“I’m here too, asshole,” Raven muttered out with a huff, causing Clarke to let out a breath of laughter.

Clarke hesitantly glanced up, cringing as she did so. His hair was exactly the same and the doe-eyed look that he fucking owned was presented across his face. Finn Collins would be the cause of her death – of course he’d fucking show up on the night she was actually beginning to enjoy.

She offered him a tight-lipped smile her eyes scanned the girl next to him. She was the polar opposite of both her and Raven and it was kind of a punch to the gut – but she wouldn’t let him see that.

“How are you?” He asked, a certain tinge of hesitance in his voice that made her narrow her eyes. Small talk? Was he really going to go for small talk? As she opened her mouth to retaliate, as always, Raven beat her to it.

Clarke was beginning to think the girl was her knight in shining armour or something.

“You don’t get to ask her that, jackass, especially with her attached to your hip. So why don’t you run along, and avoid making her and my night a disgrace, hmm?” Raven’s tone was clipped and to the point and it had Clarke’s heart beating a thousand miles a minute. Trust Raven to stand up for her in the bluntest way possible.

Finn’s eyes widened before he glared down at Raven with a tick in his jaw. He shook his head and Clarke watched as his grip tightened noticeably on the girl’s waist. “C’mon Roma,” he mumbled as he looked back at Clarke. “Nice seeing you.”

And then he was gone.

“Ugh,” Clarke groaned as she dropped her head to the table. She felt Raven’s hand come to rest on her back as she began rubbing soothing circles into it. “I hate him so much. Who the hell does he think he is?” She burst out, shooting up as she glanced at her friends. “Seeing me and acting all buddy-buddy when he’s got another fucking girl on his arm?”

Raven smiled sympathetically before Clarke realised she wasn’t the only one affected by Finn’s asshole-like behaviour. She turned to Raven with a frown and leaned into her side, “Sorry.”

Raven laughed with a shake of her head. “Don’t be sorry for me, I would’ve kicked his ass if we were in a more private place.” Clarke chuckled at her words knowing they were truthful. “I know it affected you more than I, Clarke. Even if you won’t admit that.”

Clarke merely shrugged at the accusation, looking up at Raven with sheepish eyes.

“Okay here’s what I want you to do,” Raven began, placing her hands over Clarke’s with an evil glint in her eyes. If Clarke knew Raven well enough, what she was about to say Clarke would most definitely not agree on. “Go home. I know you, and you don’t want to be here right now so I’m not going to stop you. Get some wine of some sort and get on that dating website and find a hot guy to make you forget all about the asshole.”

Clarke rolled her eyes at Raven and revelled in the fact that she was right – she most certainly didn’t agree on what Raven had suggested. She opened her mouth to disagree, but Raven cut her off. “Nope, no buts. Do it.”

With a sigh, she looked over at Jasper and Monty who were nodding in agreement. She glared at them, shaking her head at their betrayal. “Fine,” she seethed out before pointing at Monty. “But you better have the bartender’s name by the end of the night,” was the last thing she said before she downed the rest of her drink and stood up after briefly hugging Raven.

She wasn’t going on the damn site. What Raven didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her, right?

 

. . .

 

Her boots had been kicked off the moment she stepped through the door and laptop retrieved as she walked into the kitchen. Opening the lid of the device, she punched in her password before moving to the fridge to grab the wine bottle she’d abandoned earlier. Pouring a glass of wine, her eyes moved to the screen where the dating site was minimised from Raven’s inquisition before.

Groaning, she leaned over and tilted the laptop screen forward slightly before carefully carrying it in one arm, and the wine glass in the other towards the couch. Sighing as she fell back into the comfort of the couch, she smiled. The couch would never betray her.

Setting the glass on the coffee table, she leaned over and flicked on the TV, which was now broadcasting the weather. The snowstorm was on the agenda and Clarke knew better than to listen to the weather channels. They always lied to her, why start believing them now?

Turning her eyes back to the laptop hesitantly, she bit down on her lower lip, her eyes flickering to the Google Chrome icon every few seconds. Her mind was a flurry of a pros and cons list formulating rapidly – pro, if she were to find a cute guy and on the odd chance that something arises from it, she could most certainly piss off Finn by posting it all over social media. Con, it was a fucking dating website.

She could probably get murdered.

“Fuck it,” she muttered, leaning over to click on the colourful icon, wincing as it brought up the dating site. Bending down to grab her glass of wine, she took a significant gulp before clicking on the first name she saw.

 **princessclarke:** Hey

Gulping nervously after she hit enter, she placed the wine glass back on the coffee table. Hiking the laptop up to her lap, she sat with raised eyebrows. “Come on,” she whispered, kicking herself internally for even thinking about using the site.

 **derekm1045:** so you’re a doctor hey? sexy ;)

“Nope,” she said in a sound of distaste before all but shoving the laptop to the other end of the couch. She knew, fucking knew she should have just deleted Raven’s ‘I could be a hot doctor’ from her description instead of changing it to ‘I have a medical degree’, because what good would come from that sentence? Obviously nothing if she was going off what the message she’d just received had said.

Sighing, she let her head loll to the side before narrowing her eyes on the screen. “You know what,” she mumbled, leaning forward to lie on her stomach as she brought her fingers to the track pad. “Screw this.”

Closing the previous window, she opened up three more windows in her inbox and let out a deep breath of air. “You can do this Clarke. It’s time, it’s so fucking time,” she mumbled to herself as she typed out three ‘Hey’s in the respective chat screens.

Pushing back to a sitting position, she grabbed the glass of wine and waited responses as she gulped the red liquid down. Her bottom lip had been captured between her teeth again, nerve-wracking through her system with her eyes permanently set on the screen. She was so not this girl – so not the dating site girl. She was a get shit done the proper way kind of girl. Meet a guy in a bar and talk all night kind of girl. Not disregard her medical degree entirely kind of girl – but then again that was exactly what she’d done, so maybe she wasn’t who she thought she was originally.

The familiar ding sounded and her eyes focused back on the screen before she let out a groan at the message.

 **jamesjamson12:** HEY SEXY

What was it with twenty-something males and their tendency to use the word ‘sexy’ as a greeting slash compliment? Wasn’t that something teenagers did? Whatever. Clarke rolled her eyes and closed out of the screen before groaning as she questioned her sanity and _why_ she had re-opened the dating site in the first place.

Just as she was about to give up, the ding sounded again and she sighed as she glanced back at the screen. But this time, her eyebrows rose not out of disgust but wonder.

 **b_blake:** hey there, how’s it going?

Biting her lower lip, a small smile graced her lips, as she couldn’t help but click on his profile picture to maximise it. Although thick-framed glasses and a slightly goofy expression adorned his face, she could tell he was at least semi-attractive, and as she flicked to the next (and only other) photo he’d uploaded her thoughts were confirmed. Shaking her head, she clicked back on the chat.

 **princessclarke:** pretty good thanks, yourself?

Deciding to follow in the strangers suit, she kept to lower case – _casual, right_? She thought. It was like her lip had taken permanent residence for the night between her teeth, the nerves wracking through her like there were no tomorrow. This was so out of her comfort zone.

 **b_blake:** yeah same. dare i ask about the ‘princessclarke’ username?

Rolling her eyes, she mentally cursed Raven.

 **princessclarke:** my roommate made the profile for me, kind of hard to get around anything she says.

 **b_blake:** i see, i see.

Rolling her lips together, she placed the laptop down on the table in front of her as she gathered herself, taking another gulp of the wine she’d abandoned moments ago. This guy was cute; more than cute, he was pretty goddamn attractive, and here she was freaking out in her living room over the fact that she was talking to him. What would she even say now? ‘My roommate sucks and signed me up for this so I could find strangers to have sex with, do you want to be the first?’

Before she could even comprehend what to write next, the ding echoed and she glanced back down at the screen where the mysterious ‘b_blake’ had sent her another message.

 **b_blake:** so, your roommate signed you up?

 **princessclarke:** she’s starting a campaign to break up me and the couch, so this was the first step.

 **b_blake:** haha, tough relationship to break up.

 **princessclarke:** mhm, i also think she wants me gone so she can have sex with her boyfriend-not-boyfriend on the regular without me being here.

 **b_blake:** boyfriend-not-boyfriend? should i even ask?

 **princessclarke:** i don’t even ask if we’re being honest.

She bit down on her lips for the umpteenth time, but this time it was to contain a smile. The guy was charming and could hold a conversation; she’d give him that. But she was telling the truth – she knew Raven would be barging back home at some point in the night with Wick, demanding as to why she was still here instead of getting laid at a stranger’s house. Never mind that Wick’s apartment was literally right above their floor with a perfectly good bed there.

Clarke pushed the away thought that Wick’s apartment was being renovated and the place was more like a bombsite than an actual home at the current point in time.

Minutes had passed without the hot stranger sending her a message back, so with one final gulp of the glass of wine, Clarke launched herself back into the couch and pulled the laptop onto her lap again.

 **princessclarke:** speaking of said roommate, she’s probably going to be sexiling me when she gets home in a few hours. woe is me.

She’d slammed her eyes shut after sending the message, her mind yelling at her asking her why the hell she thought that was a good thing to send to him. At least she didn’t formally know him if this went south. But his reply came fast.

 **b_blake:** lucky for you, i don’t have a roommate.

 **b_blake:** that came out more forward than i intended it to.

A wave of laughter erupted from Clarke’s lips as she read his messages. At least she wasn’t the only one making a complete fool of herself here. Widening her eyes suddenly, she realised she hadn’t figured out this guys name. She guessed it was Blake-something, going off of his username, but clicked on his profile anyway.

 _Name: Bellamy Blake._  
Age: 28.  
Occupation: Cop.

She pursed her lips at the first three lines of his description, a multitude of thoughts running through her head. There was, a) what kind of name was Bellamy? b) 28. He was five years older than her. Not that she really cared at this point, and c) he was a goddamn cop. Could this guy get any hotter?

Shaking her head rid of her thoughts, her fingers flew back to the keyboard as she realised it’d been a few minutes that she’d left him hanging.

 **princessclarke:** are you trying to lure me into a death trap, Mr. Blake?

 **b_blake:** perhaps, princess.

 **princessclarke:** ah, damn! I knew you were too good to be true.

 **b_blake:** too good to be true… what are you trying to say?

Slamming her eyes shut, she let out a string of curse words at the slip-up. Of course, she’d say something like that. She could pretty much read the smugness in the sentence – she could only imagine what he was actually doing right now. Probably smirking at his computer screen like an idiot at her stupid slip up. Sighing, she brought her fingers back to the keyboard. “C'mon Clarke. Play it off. Be cool. You can do this.”

 **princessclarke:** well, you are kind of attractive. I’m sure you knew that though.

 **b_blake:** crossed my mind.

 **princessclarke:** oh no don’t be that guy.

 **b_blake:** you’re bringing out the devil in me princess, can’t help it.

Biting her lip, she couldn’t contain the smile that was daring to itch its way onto her lips. This guy was good, she couldn’t (and wouldn’t) deny that any further.

 **b_blake:** so, you’re being sexiled. would it be totally inappropriate for me to invite you over?

Her eyes widened at the message. Clarke had gone into this fully expecting nothing to come of it, yet there she was, staring down an invite to a stranger’s house (hot stranger, thank-you) to more or less have sex. Well, he hadn’t exactly said that but Clarke wasn’t naïve. She knew what this was.

Raven would be proud.

 **princessclarke:** perhaps… but I’m kind of desperate to high-tail it out of here before they both get back.

Moments passed by without Bellamy messaging back, and Clarke bit her lip out of nervousness. What if he’d changed his mind? Re-read their conversation and decided she was too much of a lunatic for him? What if he read between the lines of her profile and knew that she was the kind of girl who hadn’t been on the dating scene for nearly a year. Every one of her thoughts made her roll her eyes.

With a sudden thought, her fingers flew back to the keyboard.

 **princessclarke:** wait!

 **princessclarke:** can we video chat? Just to test that you’re not a psychopath.

 **b_blake:** sure, fair enough.

Setting her laptop down on the couch she fluffed about with her hair. Clarke bit her lip as she accepted the request to video chat from Bellamy. Seconds later, his screen popped up from the left-hand corner and he was waving.

“Hey.”

“Hey,” Clarke smiled as she pulled her laptop back onto her lap. “Was kind of expecting you to catfish me or something.”

“I could say the same about you, not all that often a pretty girl pops up in your recommended matches who’s completely sane.”

The compliment and the deepness of his voice made her blush, but she smirked nevertheless. “And how do you know I’m sane? For all I know I could be verbally catfishing you.”

“Touché. Well, I certainly hope you aren’t,” Bellamy smirked leaning back into the couch he was sitting on. “Well, I’m not a psycho, from appearances anyway. Do I pass?”

Nodding slowly, Clarke couldn’t take her eyes off him. He was attractive, god help her. “Yes! Uh, yes…” She trailed off sheepishly, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “So, how do – how does this, uh?” She slammed her eyes shut, mentally cursing herself at the stuttering before mustering herself up and sending him a playful smirk. “Obviously I don’t do this a lot. Or at all.”

Bellamy chuckled and ducked his head down to hide a smile that Clarke could see forming on his lips. He glanced back up at her and shrugged. “Neither, but hey, what’s the worse that could happen?” He grinned and she grinned back. “I’ll send you through my address I guess.”

She nodded slowly, hesitantly before a soft smile graced her lips. “Yes. Yes, sounds awesome.”

“I’ll see you soon, princess,” He said smoothly before ending the video call with a wink.

Clarke fell back into the pillows, her eyes trained on the ceiling. Did she really just do that? Did she honestly just plan to hike to a stranger’s house in the middle of the fucking night to have sex with him? She was beyond trying to deny that was going to happen, because what other crazy person would go to an attractive guys house who she’d just met to just talk? No one that was the answer.

Her eyes glanced down to the screen as she heard the ding, her eyes bulging out of her head at the address he’d sent. He was a mere few streets away from her apartment block.

At least she’d be able to make an easy escape in the morning.

 

. . .

 

_Present time, 8:52am_

 

Clarke had spent a total of five minutes trying to figure out what possessed her to come to Bellamy’s apartment, before she put the thought to the back of her mind, blaming Raven for the time being and focused instead on getting the hell out of there. However, she found herself stuck. Looking down, she found Bellamy’s arm trapping her in. Her side was pushed up against his front creating a flurrying of warmth inside of her and _how the hell_ hadn’t she realised they were in this position?

She actively ignored the voice in her mind that said it was because the feeling of being held was nice and almost familiar.

She then noted that she was in nothing but her underwear and his shirt. She rolled her eyes at the clichéd scene she found herself in and wiggled a few times in attempt release herself from Bellamy’s grasp. It took her a few moments, but he eventually grunted and rolled over, freeing her. He took the covers with him and she was glad, considering he was merely in his boxer briefs and she did not want to go back down that path of toned chest and tanned skin.

Sliding almost stealth like out of his bed, she ducked her head over a shoulder to make sure he was still asleep before going about her business. She tore his shirt off as she spied her bra hanging over his bookcase in the corner of the room, not even wanting to know how it ended up there. Trekking over to grab it she put it back on, her eyes lingering on the books placed on the shelf as she clipped the bra together.

Books of mythology and history littered the shelves and she found herself impressed. In the small talk they made for a total of ten minutes last night before they found themselves gravitating towards each other, she hadn’t found much out about him. Only that he was a police officer (which she already knew) and lived alone (which again, she already knew). When he questioned the doctor status did Clarke stand tall and instead press her lips to his, not wanting to answer the question.

Luckily, he didn’t press it any further.

Her fingers darted out to run along the spine of a particularly old book as a smile etched its way onto her lips. So he wasn’t all smirks and smart comments, she figured, at least from the noticeable amount of decent books on this shelf.

“That’s one view to wake up to.” His sleepy voice rung through the air, triggering a gasp from her lips as she turned around. Her eyebrows flew upward at his similar raised eyebrow expression. Bellamy’s eyes gazed down her body and back up to her face, which had Clarke realising she was essentially naked before him. Rolling her eyes, she ducked forward and grabbed his shirt she previously had on and held it to her chest.

“Well, don’t get used to it.”

“Aw, princess not a morning person?”

“Shut it,” she seethed out as she walked around the room in an attempt to find her own shirt. Honestly, where the hell were her clothes? She spied one of her jackets sitting at the foot of the bed, her boots at the door but the rest of her clothing was a mystery. “Where are my clothes?”

Bellamy shrugged and pulled himself into an upright position as he wiped sloppily at his tired eyes. “Probably out there somewhere,” he nodded out past the door (that wasn’t really a door, just an opening in the wall) and into the living area. Clarke rolled her eyes and stalked out of the room, hearing Bellamy hot on her tail.

Surveying the area, she found her jeans tossed on the couch and her shirt not too far from that alongside the other jacket. She moved to pull the jeans on, wiggling slightly as she did so which earned a chuckle from Bellamy who she now figured was behind her. She shot a glare over her shoulder finding him leaning against his doorframe with his arms raised innocently.

“Could you like… turn away or something?”

“Suddenly shy, princess?”

Clarke groaned, “Stop calling me that.” Pulling her shirt over her head she moved to grab the first of her jackets and tugged that on too. Turning around to face him, she raised her eyebrows at his lack of clothing before turning away before she got too distracted. Letting out a huff of air (his slight chuckle let her know he knew that she had been staring at him) she brushed past him into the room where she shrugged on the second jacket.

“Leaving so soon?” His voice startled her and she turned to find him still with that shit-eating smirk on his face. Clarke narrowed her eyes. She couldn’t decide if she wanted to slap the smirk off his face or kiss it away. Definitely slap, she tried to convince herself.

“Mm, yep,” she rolled her lips together and took a step closer to him, offering him a hand to shake. “It’s been super real. Thanks for the uh, hospitality. But I have to go, you know, busy day ahead of me.”

“Saving people’s lives and all?” He chuckled, bringing up the one thing she’d avoided all night. She only glared.

“Yeah, something like that.” She stood her ground. Her eyes were not faltering as she glanced at him. Bellamy was still fucking smirking and she definitely wanted to smack it off his face at this point. “Yeah. I’m gonna go.”

Bellamy’s chuckle entered her ears as she fled past him, grabbing her bag from the couch on her way through. “You always leave this early?”

Stopping dead in her tracks, she attempted to process his words. _You always leave this early?_ What the fuck was he suggesting? She turned around, a gleam in her eye that screamed ‘do not fuck with me’ before cocking her hip to the side as she glared him down.

“Do I what, sorry?” She spat out. The chuckle that emanated from Bellamy’s lips made her scowl even more prominent, eyebrows raised as she awaited an answer.

“C’mon, Clarke,” he began, surprising her by using her actual name. “You get up at the crack of fucking dawn, scampering around gathering your clothes and now you’re so desperately wanting to leave? This can’t be a first-time thing for you.” He chuckled.

“I am going to actually kill you.” She seethed out. “This is my first fucking one-night stand and wow, thank you, Bellamy, for making me realise why the hell I shouldn’t do things like this. You’re an ass.” She spoke incredulously as she stormed for the front door.

“You know, people keep on telling me that.” She could almost hear the smirk in his voice as he spoke, the whole thing making her ten times angrier.

“Well, like I said, it’s been super, but I’m going to go before I castrate you,” she sent him a tight-lipped smile as she reached the door, her hand on the handle. The idiot only continued to smirk at her.

“I had a wonderful time last night,” he teased, so she offered him a sarcastic smile instead.

“Aw, wish I could say that same!”

 

. . .

 

“Stupid fucking asshole, who does he think he is?” Clarke muttered as she angrily trudged down the stairwell. She pulled both jackets further over her body, the air significantly cold in the hall. She glanced up with distaste, cursing whoever thought the lack of heaters in hallways were a good idea.

Sighing contentedly as she reached the bottom of the stairwell, she stepped forward for the door and went to push it but it didn’t budge. Furrowing her eyebrows in confusion, she tried again, only to fail.

Letting out a breath of air she shook her head and tried for a third time, however, the door did not budge. Clarke stood on her tippy-toes and leaned out to look out the glassed window. Her eyes widened as she took in the amount of snow piled up in front of the entrance.

No.

No, no, no.

No way.

The echoing of footsteps coming down the stairs startled her alongside a muffled voice and one glance up the stairwell had her groaning internally as she realised it was Bellamy.

“… like a demon trapped in a hot girls body. She was like this fiery, blonde haired apparent doctor. It was good when we were talking on the site, and then I mean, the sex was okay, but then this morning she turned into fucking Satan’s mistr—” His voice cut off with a muffled groan as he finally took note of her (and her deadly glare). “Uh – fuck. Miller, I’ll call you back.”

Bellamy shoved his phone into the pocket of his jeans that he’d obviously put on in her absence, and smirked at her. “Stuck?” He chuckled, moving his arms around the trashcan he was carrying.

Clarke rolled her eyes and stepped to the side, motioning for him to look out over the glass. Bellamy scoffed in return and placed the trashcan on the floor. “So weak, princess. It’s only a little snow.” Clarke raised her eyebrows as she watched him deliberately not look outside the door and instead try to yank it open. She couldn’t help but smirk as he failed not once, not twice but three times, but then frowned again realising they really were stuck.

Bellamy turned to her with a sheepish smile that turned into a distasteful one not long after. “Hmm, awesome,” he muttered lowly, but not low enough to bypass her hearing. Clarke returned his glance with a glare and soon he was glaring at her as well.

She was going to kill Raven.

 

. . .

 

The weatherman was taunting her. It was almost like he knew that she was stuck at her one-night stand buddies house and wanted to make it exceedingly worse for her by joyfully broadcasting that _‘no one will be going anywhere anytime soon, because this snow ain’t letting up!’_

She let out an angry breath of air, pointedly ignoring Bellamy’s chuckle. She’d glanced at him briefly to find his eyes focused on the book he’d grabbed from the coffee table – she hadn’t seen what it was, but from the impressive collection on his shelf, she gathered it was some form of mythology.

Pulling out her phone, she sent off a quick, strongly worded message to Raven.

 **Clarke:** I’m stuck at his house. Like snowed in stuck. My one-night stand buddies fucking house. And he’s a douchebag that won’t stop smirking. I so hate you.

It was only a few seconds later that she received a reply.

 **Raven:** Oh that’s where you are. But are you serious? I’m so proud of you.

 **Raven:** If he’s hot jump him again, who cares if he’s a d-bag.

 **Raven:** If he’s not hot then I’m disappointed in you.

Clarke tried to push the thought that Bellamy was, unfortunately, very hot and instead focused on the way she was going to kill Raven when she got home – keyword when, as for now she had not a fucking clue when that time would be.

Clarke sighed for what felt like the umpteenth time that morning. She turned her head to the side when she heard rustling. Bellamy had hopped up, stretched (which had showed off a significant portion of his stomach that Clarke tried to not look at) before making a beeline towards the kitchen. Clarke watched from her place on the couch, her eyebrows almost permanently furrowed and her arms folded across her chest as he fussed about.

“Hungry?” He called out as he opened the fridge. “I have bacon. And three eggs. That’s pretty much it breakfast wise.”

Clarke didn’t want to say yes, she really didn’t, but her stomach had been begging to be fuelled with food for the past hour and she really couldn’t say no. With a sigh, she pushed herself up from the couch and stalked towards the kitchen not a peep escaping from her lips. Sitting down on one of the bench stools she watched as Bellamy turned around from the fridge with a varying amount of foods in his hands.

He watched her with an amused expression as he moved about the kitchen making food. Clarke didn’t utter a single word, only glared at him the whole time. When he placed a plate of food in front of her, the sight of the bacon, egg and tomato made her stomach grumble in approval. He placed a set of cutlery in front of her and winked, pinching his fingers together before bringing them to his lips and kissing them.

“Bon appetite.”

The food was devastatingly good.

Clarke hated him.

They sat in silence as they ate, Clarke pouting every so often as she remembered the situation she was presently in. Bellamy looked at her with a pointed expression that screamed he was amused and it made Clarke want to hit him even more so than before.

“You know,” he began after what felt like a decade of silence. “We’re going to have to talk at some point. I mean you’re trapped here for god knows how long. We all know Larry is such an accurate weatherman,” his words had a smile and a traitorous laugh escaping her lips. Her laughter made Bellamy chuckle slightly, looking up at her from underneath his eyelashes as he took a sip of his drink. “We should start over.”

Clarke lowered her eyebrows in confusion. “Come again?”

“Pretend we don’t know each other. Essentially introduce ourselves again.”

Clarke narrowed her eyes. “That’s – no. Bad idea.”

“Okay then,” Bellamy settled for with a smirk enhanced on his lips. The casual behaviour he so easily emanated had an unsettling feeling in Clarke’s stomach. It made her think how often _he_ did this.

She only then remembered that he had said last night he didn’t do this often (note: at all), but pushed that to the back of her mind. If he was allowed to insinuate that this wasn’t her first one-night stand, then she was going to go right ahead and assume this wasn’t his. He was too good looking for it not to be, anyway.

“Okay fine, but we’re not being lame and actually introducing ourselves again.” Bellamy smiled at her words. “And technically we don’t know each other.”

“Okay, time passer – let's change that.” He grabbed both his and her empty plates and dumped them in the sink before turning back to face her, a look of curiosity now etched on his features. Clarke raised her eyebrows.

“What?”

“Why’d you avoid the doctor question last night when I asked you?” He began, pushing himself off the bench and sitting back down in the chair beside her. “I mean, not that I’m complaining.”

“No. No way, too deep. We’re not doing deep.” She rattled off, not even commenting on his wink at the end of his sentence.

“I wasn’t aware that was deep.”

“Let’s avoid deep.”

“Keeping it shallow. I’m good at that.”

“I’m sure you are.” It was Bellamy’s turn to glare at Clarke and her turn to grin innocently in return. She shrugged and he rolled his eyes, turning his body and chair to face her fully.

“Okay. Boundaries, I now know not to ask you about your doctor status, we’re making progress here.”

“Hmm,” Clarke mumbled leaning forward on the table, their knees knocking as she turned slightly. She’d attempted to think of something to say but had come short, so she instead settled for staring at him with raised eyebrows. Her desperate need of wanting to leave the house aside, Clarke was a strong person who could stand her ground. She wasn’t about to let Bellamy tear her down with words or that stupid smirk he wore.

Suddenly, he pushed his chair out and hopped up. A look of confusion clouded Clarke’s features, but he nodded his head towards the living area. She pushed her chair out and trailed behind him, sitting down beside him after she’d seen him heading for the couch.

Her phone sounded from its place on the coffee table and they both looked at it. Bellamy raised his eyebrows and Clarke leaned over to grab for it. After unlocking it and reading the message, her eyes rolled heavenward.

 **Raven:** Your reason for ignoring me better be that you’re jumping his bones.

Bellamy cleared his throat noticeably. Clarke glanced up to see his eyebrows risen and a pointed look directed at her phone. She sighed and placed it back on the coffee table. “Roommate,” she shrugged.

“Ah. The roommate that signed you up for the dating site?” He pointed out with a slight smile. Clarke looked up at him, returning his smile without a second guess before ducking her head slightly, nodding.

“Yeah.”

“Why’d she do that?”

Clarke raised her eyebrows. “Like I said, she’s campaigning to break up me and the couch.”

Bellamy chuckled, moving about slightly to face her as he threw an arm over the back of the couch. “Dare I ask why?”

“I thought we weren’t doing deep.”

“Gotcha,” he spoke firmly with a nod. Clarke huffed softly and turned to face the TV where Larry the weatherman was still rambling on incessantly, the visual of him outside in the snowstorm enough to make anyone laugh. So she did.

She ignored the fact that Bellamy’s vision shot straight across to her as she laughed and definitely ignored the soft smile that graced his lips as soon as the sounds of her laughter filled the air.

Minutes ticked past with the pair sitting in utter silence, the wind from outside and Larry’s static voice from the TV the only thing filling the air. It was deadly, and Clarke couldn’t tell if the tension in the room was thick or not.

Fed up with the quietness of the whole scenario, she turned her body fully to face him. She did have questions, so why not ask them? “Why did you assume that this wasn’t my first one-night stand even though I quite embarrassingly told you last night it was?”

“You did, didn’t you.”

“Hmm. Exactly. Why did you then?”

Bellamy glanced over at Clarke with the shit-eating grin of the century plastered on his lips. Clarke narrowed her eyes at him, which led to him shrugging and leaning back into the couch. He grabbed the remote and turned the volume down on the TV (thank god, you could only listen to enough of Larry the weatherman before going insane).

He shrugged. “Wanted to see how you’d react.”

“You’re an asshole, has anyone ever told you that?” Clarke asked incredulously, shaking her head.

It was Bellamy’s turn to glare, but that soon turned back into his telltale smirk. He turned his body to face her fully, his arm resting on the back of the couch dangerously close to her neck. It made Clarke shiver slightly. “Well you have, several times may I recall, so yes.”

Clarke narrowed her eyes at him. “And you wonder why?”

Bellamy only laughed at her words, one that came right from the pits of his belly that had Clarke betraying herself and laughing softly in return mostly at the absurdness of this situation. His eyes were crinkled and his cheeks red as he laughed and Clarke couldn’t help but think it was a wonderful sight. The fleeting thought had her scrunching her nose up soon after, like no, why would she think that? She was still pissed at him for insinuating she slept around. Did she look like the kind of girl who slept around? So she folded her arms and turned back to the TV.

“Come on, princess,” Bellamy began as he inched closer to her. Clarke looked at him from out of the corner of her eye and pursed her lips. “Like I said, god knows how long we’re going to be here for – least you can do is ignore the fact that I’m an asshole.” He teased.

Clarke sighed and turned her head to face him. He was sitting there smirking; his eyes full of humour and Clarke couldn’t help the smile that lifted to her lips. There were certainly worse people that she could’ve been caught in this situation with.

She found herself thinking that it also helped that he was attractive for what felt like the millionth time today. Then she cursed herself. The she reprimanded herself, because to hell with being ashamed of that. She could think the stranger she slept with last night was hot and no one was going to stop her.

“Fine,” she spoke finally, coaxing a wide grin out of Bellamy.

“Are you going to snap at me if I ask you questions?”

“As long as you steer clear of the words ‘doctor’ and ‘ex-boyfriend’ I promise not to snap,” she informed, lolling her head to face him. She grinned lazily and he mock saluted, not even questioning the two words.

“Aye, aye captain.”

They were silent for a few moments after that, the background crackle of the TV and the gusts of wind from outside emanating throughout the room as the only sound. Bellamy looked at Clarke and she looked at him, both awaiting something to spring from the others lips. Bellamy cracked a grin and hopped up suddenly, moving back towards his bedroom.

“Where are you going?” Clarke asked, dropping her head backwards as she watched his disappear behind the makeshift door. He didn’t reply, and Clarke was only met with the sounds of rustling objects.

She dropped her head forward as she waited, leaning over to grab the TV remote. Flicking aimlessly through channels, she pursed her lips as the infectious voice of SpongeBob filled the air. She smiled as she put the remote down beside her, eyes glued to the TV.

Bellamy made reappearance and Clarke turned to look at him. She laughed at the silent judgement that was threaded through his features at her choice of a TV show. He shrugged and plopped back down on the couch beside her with three sets of cards in his hands.

“You’ve got your choice of Uno, Cards Against Humanity or Strip Poker,” Bellamy grinned, Clarke didn’t; she instead rolled her eyes and leant over to grab the deck of Cards Against Humanity out of his hands.

“I’ve never played this before.”

“Oh Clarke, you’re in for a treat,” Bellamy taunted with a grin as he chucked the remaining decks of cards to the floor haphazardly. Clarke smiled with a soft shake of her head as she watched Bellamy fiddle about with the cards. She pulled her legs up to cross them on the couch, facing him.

“How do you play? Like, I know the gist of the game, but I’m not 100% sure.”

“Well there’s only two of us, so we’re going to have to change the rules up a bit,” Bellamy began as he separated the white cards from the black on the coffee table. “Usually there’s a card czar who judges the best combination, but we’ll just pick a black card from the pile and both match up white ones. Decide who’s best ourselves.” He finished with a smirk. Clarke grinned and offered her right hand to him.

“Hit me.”

Bellamy rolled his eyes as he shuffled the white cards before laying 10 facedown in her palm, then sorting 10 for himself. His eyes flickered up as he watched Clarke take the cards she had, laughing at the faces she was pulling at some of the obvious inappropriate cards. Shaking his head, he snapped his fingers gaining her attention.

“Game on,” he stated with a smirk before leaning over to the coffee table and pulling it closer to them. He flipped a black card over from the pile and chuckled. “ _’I drink to forget’_ ,” he read out, eyes peering at Clarke who already had a grin on her lips.

“Oh, I’m so winning this round.”

“If you say so.”

Clarke turned her card around and Bellamy laughed at the word. _Alcoholism._ Clarke was grinning like a Cheshire cat, Bellamy in a fit of laughter. “I’d like to see you do better than that.”

Bellamy only shrugged before turning around the card he’d picked – _Drinking alone._ Clarke snorted and shook her head, Bellamy smiling at her response. “I thought this was good, but I think yours tops this, princess. Well done.”

Clarke grinned and placed the white card down beside her. “Thank-you.”

They continued playing. It went along the lines of Bellamy using inappropriate white cards as answers to ‘lighten the mood’ and Clarke scrunching her nose up at him. They ranged from _‘How did I lose my virginity?’ ‘Parting the red sea’_ to the more disturbing, _‘During sex I like to think about’ ‘Goblins’_.

Clarke’s behalf had Bellamy raising his eyebrows a few times. When a black card read _‘This months Cosmo: “Spice up your sex life by bringing ______ into the bedroom”’_ had Clarke responding with _‘Explosions’_.

“Damn princess, should I be glad you didn’t use shit like that on me last night?”

A slap echoed throughout the apartment.

Then they got bored, so Bellamy decided to make it interesting.

“Loser has to take a shot?” He called out over his shoulder as he walked the short distance to the kitchen. Clarke glanced at him with raised eyebrows. He turned around with a bottle of rum in hand, a grin on his lips. “C’mon, lighten up.”

“It’s 10am.”

“And?”

Clarke disapproved but nodded in agreement anyway. She couldn’t help the smile that rolled onto her lips as Bellamy grinned and fist pumped the air. He wandered over with two shot glasses and poured them each a shot. Offering one to her with a sheepish look and a grin on his face, “One for good luck?”

Clarke rolled her eyes. She took the shot, anyway.

They were boarding tipsy after playing a few rounds, as they both were considerably good at matching up combinations. Bellamy _matched ‘An Oedipus complex’_ to _‘______: kid tested, mother approved’_ which had Clarke promptly calling him a nerd through her slightly disgruntled laughter. Then there was Clarke matching _‘In his new self-proclaimed album, Kayne West raps over the sound of ______’_ with the answer _‘Kayne West’_ , to which Bellamy couldn’t contain his own laughter at the truth of the statement. Bellamy matched _‘Dead parents’_ with _‘_______. Betcha can’t just have one!’_ which had Clarke glaring at him for making her laugh so hard at the morbid statement.

“This game makes people sound like psychopaths.”

It was boarding 11am when they’d run out of cards. An array of black and white littered the floor and coffee table around them, the bottle of rum half empty. Both had their legs stretched out on the coffee table, which was now pulled right up to the couch, as Bellamy idly played with the ends of Clarke’s hair.

She still hadn’t found her goddamn hair tie. When she questioned Bellamy, he just shrugged and said, “Your hair looks nicer out, anyway” to which she slightly blushed at but had turned away before he could pick up on it.

Bellamy had reached over to grab the bottle of rum, suddenly taking a swig. Clarke turned to look at him and found the bottle in front of her eyes. She raised an eyebrow. “Patrick did something stupid. We drink.”

“That’s almost every minute of the show.”

Bellamy grinned. Clarke drank.

 

 

To Bellamy’s surprise, Clarke could hold her liquor. After he’d voiced this opinion he got whacked in the arm and learned to never question Clarke’s abilities or motives ever again. They had continued to watch SpongeBob for an hour, lazily drinking every time Patrick did something stupid before stomachs began growling. Bellamy pushed himself up from the couch wobbling a little as he gained his balance. He pushed the coffee table back out to its usual position before setting off for the kitchen.

Clarke hopped up after him and stumbled towards the kitchen, falling down on the same kitchen stool she sat on earlier that morning as she watched him move about the kitchen. Piles of lunchmeats, spreads and salads accumulated on the kitchen bench, Clarke furrowing her eyebrows at the mass of it all.

“You can choose what you want this way,” Bellamy replied, dropping a loaf of bread, the final item to the bench. He grinned over at her, leaning forward on the bench. “Go for your life.”

Clarke hopped up and moved around to Bellamy’s side of the bench and got to work. The two stood in their spots only moving around each other when necessary and muttering their thanks every so often. Clarke pressed her sandwich together and grinned up at Bellamy as she pushed herself up to sit on the bench. Bellamy chuckled and leaned beside her as they both took bites of their food.

A silence was met aside from the sounds of lettuce crunching below teeth.

“So,” Bellamy began. The tone of his voice had Clarke raising an eyebrow as she bit into her sandwich hesitantly. “Why did your roommate really sign you up for the site?”

Clarke swallowed what she’d bitten off before sighing. What was the harm in telling him? “It’s kind of a long story,” she said, which had Bellamy motioning to the window and the white doom floating through the air. Clarke chuckled softly before placing the sandwich down, liquid courage running through her system. “Um, basically I met roommate, Raven because we dated the same guy… at the same time. Unknowingly.”

Bellamy furrowed his eyebrows, putting down his sandwich as he turned to lean his hip closer to her on the bench. He raised his hand in a motion for her to continue.

“Right. He had been dating Raven for two years, and he’d been dating me for about six months. She was working overseas in that six-month period, so imagine her surprise when she comes home to surprise Finn and a blonde girl answers the door wearing a shirt that is clearly not hers?” Clarke laughed softly.

“Anyway. She slapped me, like really hard; I think I had a mark for days afterward. A couple of days later she came to my work and apologised after she realised I didn’t know. We got drunk and became friends. Then we both conveniently found out he’d been sort of seeing this other girl on the side so the joke was on both of us. This was all a year ago and Raven’s sick of me not going out after a while, so she signed me up for the site,” she concluded with a definitive nod, leaning down to re-grab her sandwich to take a bite. “I’d never actually used the site until uh, now. I was at The Ark last night and saw Finn with the girl and kind of just… emotions, I guess,” She shrugged.

“Well then. That’s… a story.” Clarke laughed at his words, nodding. “And now you’re roommates with Raven as well?”

“Yeah, that was kind of a spur of the moment thing. She needed to move out of Finn’s, we were… friendly enough towards each other and my old roommate had moved away so I needed someone. I offered,” Clarke shrugged.

Bellamy nodded slowly at her words – frankly, his mind was still fuzzy and although he fully comprehended the fact that Clarke’s roommate was her ex-boyfriend's girlfriend he still sound it astounding that they’d become friends from it. Chuckling, he shook his head and began to gather the leftover food they hadn’t used.

 

. . .

 

The afternoon dragged on and the weather stayed the same. After seeing Larry out in the hazardous weather when they’d decided to check for weather updates, both Bellamy and Clarke had come to the conclusion that she wouldn’t be leaving anytime soon. Neither could decide if that was a good thing or a bad thing.

Their boredom had led them to sitting at opposites ends of the living area – Bellamy pressed beside the makeshift bedroom door and Clarke sat near the kitchen – throwing a tattered ball that had odd teeth marks on it back and forth.

(“Do you have a dog?” Clarke had asked. Bellamy replied negatively, in turn having Clarke look at him strangely.)

Clarke leaned to the left to catch the ball as it floated through the air, grunting softly as she almost fell over. Bellamy snorted through slight laughter, having Clarke turn to him and glare in return. He raised an eyebrow and easily caught the ball she threw (see: pegged) at him. He held the ball in his grip for a few moments, eyes on Clarke as she motioned with her head for the ball. He raised his arm to throw it but didn’t.

“My ex-girlfriend told me to sign up for the dating site,” he began as he threw the ball. “While we were still dating.”

Clarke’s mouth formed an ‘O’, completely missing the catch as the ball bounced off her chest. Muttering profanity, she leaned over slightly to grab the ball before turning her attention back to Bellamy. “Elaborate?”

Bellamy chuckled and ducked his head momentarily before glancing back up in her direction. “Roma was very forward. She always knew what she wanted and if she did want a certain thing, or if she felt a certain way she’d voice it. Sometimes in very… odd ways, but you got used to it.

“She basically told me there was someone else and told me that I should sign up for it. I guess it was her fucked up way of breaking up with me without actually having to say ‘I want to break up’.” He finished and couldn’t help but let out soft laughter at the confused expression painted on Clarke’s face.

She stared at him mouth gaped before shaking her head. “She sounds like a bitch.”

It was only moments later that Clarke’s mind wandered back to Finn at the bar with the skinny brunette girl who she distinctly remembers being called Roma. She narrowed her eyes marginally but pushed the thought to the back of her mind.

Bellamy snorted and shrugged. “Whatever. We all get fucked over somehow,” he pointed out with raised eyebrows. Clarke shrugged mouthing ‘touché’ before she finally threw the ball back at him. He caught it with ease and she glared again.

Clarke bit her lower lip, eyes skirting around her surroundings rather than looking at Bellamy. Besides their obvious clash earlier this morning, she oddly enjoyed his company. It was like it was last night again and they were easily conversing on the site – she hadn’t been able to speak to someone like this, with such ease in a while. It was a nice feeling.

“I’m not a doctor.” She said suddenly.

That grabbed Bellamy’s attention.

He raised an eyebrow as she looked back at him, turning his head slightly in confusion. “Are you a nurse?” He trailed off somewhat slowly. Clarke bit her lip and shook her head. “Okay. So you’re not a doctor, but you have a medical degree?”

After a beat, she nodded. “Basically.”

She could see the confusion and wonder in Bellamy’s eyes and sighed. She hopped up to move from her place against the wall and walked over to where he was sitting. Bellamy moved as she came to sit down beside him, stretching her legs out and wringing her hands together in her lap. For anyone else she knew it had taken a while for her to open about the whole situation, but for some reason (that confused her to death) she felt like telling Bellamy – even if she’d known him for less than 24 hours. Maybe it was because she knew, whether it was tonight, tomorrow or even the next day that she’d most likely never see him again. So spilling her secrets didn’t bother her.

“I did it because it’s what my mom wanted me to do. I always wanted to do art, but you know ‘that’s not a logical decision Clarke, where’s that going to get you in life?’” She mocked, smiling as Bellamy snorted slightly. “But then I had a really big falling out with her and thought screw it. So I finished the degree to please her, but then got my revenge by applying for a job in a bar and didn’t go on to do my residency or anything. She’s extremely angry, but I don’t really care because I actually like working in the bar. I’m happy there, so,” she finished lamely with a shrug.

She lolled her head to the side gauging Bellamy’s reaction. He turned to her with raised eyebrows. “All this just to piss off your mom?”

Clarke smirked. “You haven’t met my mom.”

Bellamy chuckled at that, reaching up to scratch the back of his neck. “Fair enough then.”

They both sat amidst the silence – neither knew how long, they were simply content sitting there. Clarke had slowly dropped her head to his shoulder at some point, and Bellamy had begun playing idly with the curls that fell from her neck. It was soothing and calming sitting listening to nothing but the sounds of short breaths and gusts of wind. It was a moment of content amongst the dramatics that was the past night.

Bellamy suddenly moved to stand up having Clarke shooting upright at the movement. She watched as he stood and stretched before offering her a hand to take. She gave him a pointed look, but took his hand nevertheless and let him pull her to her feet. He dragged the two of them to the couch where they both fell into the comfort, much like earlier.

His feet sprawled across the coffee table, Clarke’s crossed beneath her body, they both focused on the moving pictures of the TV. Nothing needed to be said. It was calm and collected and so goddamn weird, but neither questioned it.

“We both sound all sorts of tragic…” Clarke whispered, but loud enough for him to hear. Bellamy laughed softly, his free arm moving to rest behind her neck on the couch.

His fingers had unknowingly moved to start playing with the ends of her hair again. It was soothing.

 

. . .

 

It’d been hours and there was no sign of the snow letting up (Larry was still making a fool of himself on national television, so there was some silver lining to the situation). Clarke and Bellamy had lapsed into an era of silence that afternoon, channel surfing and idly talking. Something about their previous conversation had set a sombre mood about the house, yet it was one neither particularly minded. It matched the weather.

Which lead them to now, Bellamy’s stomach grumbling quite loudly and Clarke giggled at the sound of it. He looked over to glare at her before hopping up and walking to the kitchen. Clarke followed and silently sat at a bench stool as she watched him move about the kitchen.

He was bustling about, looking quite in his element. Clarke was enthralled and so focused on him that she almost didn’t notice the glass of wine he placed in front of her. She smiled appreciatively and raised it to take a sip.

Noodles, Clarke gathered, he was making noodles. When she’d asked he clarified and said he was making a dish he called Pancit – because apparently that was something he always had ingredients for. Clarke raised her eyebrows but she didn’t comment on it and instead took another sip of her wine.

“This is oddly domestic for two people who had a one night stand,” Clarke remarked.

“C’mon princess, I think we’ve broken all one-night stand rules by now. We can stop calling it that,” Bellamy responded with a smirk. Clarke laughed and dropped her chin to her neck where she cursed away the blush that was rising on her cheeks.

Bowls of noodles in one hand and a glass of wine in the other, they both ventured back to the couch in silence and began eating. Clarke had to admit, the noodles were fucking good – and by the look Bellamy was giving her, he could tell that she thought that. She rolled her eyes and he chuckled.

The soft murmurs of the TV were hidden behind the scraping of metal against porcelain bowls and slurps of noodles. Upon finishing his bowl, Bellamy placed it on the coffee table in front of him, his eyes lingering on the TV. Clarke turned to look at him and studied him – perhaps if they hadn’t met in the situation they had, they’d actually spoken and not delved right into sex, they could’ve gone somewhere. She bit her lip as the thought that they could do that anyway crossed her mind. She pushed that away as fast as it arose.

“Hey,” Bellamy suddenly spoke up, albeit softly. Clarke turned to look at him, noodles hanging eloquently from around her lips. Bellamy chuckled as she blushed and pulled the noodles between her teeth. She nodded in his direction for him to continue and he smiled tentatively. “Did you mean it?”

“Mean what?” Clarke furrowed her eyebrows.

“This morning when you said ‘wish I could say the same’ to me saying I had a good time last night.” Any hint of apprehension was void of his expression and tone, now replaced with a set of raised eyebrows and daring smirk. Clarke groaned. She was not having this conversation.

“Uh, I—” she spluttered, sending him a sheepish smile. “Kind of? I don’t know! It was a spur of the moment thing. You were being an ass,” she said as she leaned over to place her bowl on the table.

“But you meant it.”

Clarke pulling her lower lip between her teeth guiltily told had him enough obviously. Bellamy groaned before turning to face her directly.

“I am not talking about this.”

“You can’t just leave a guy hanging like that, Clarke!” Bellamy exclaimed. It was obvious he didn’t mean it to be rude, with the toying soft smile on his lips, but it was also obvious that he wanted to talk about this. Someone kill her right now.

“Kind of like you did to me last night…” Clarke couldn’t help but mumble. Bellamy sent her a glare strong enough to kill. She winced and opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out. “We are not talking about this.”

“We are fucking talking about this.” There wasn’t a hint of bitterness in his tone, so if he was bitter then he was excellent at hiding it. He had an amused look about his face, a soft smirk on his lips and determination in his eyes. “So, I left you hanging?”

“No!” Clarke burst out, bringing her hands up to cover her face. She laughed incredulously into them before it formed into a groan and then removed them to look at him. “No, I – no, we can’t talk about this because you’ll get all angry and broody about what I say you did wr—not wrong just, not the best.” She smiled innocently.

Bellamy didn’t blink or move, only smiled. “Oh, you think you’re the only one who has critiques from last night?”

Clarke narrowed her eyes at that.

“You have things you want to say about me?” She questioned in a low tone. Bellamy only nodded somewhat innocently and she scoffed. “As if.”

“Better believe it, princess,” he began before leaning into her ear. “You may have gotten me off, but you’re not perfect.” He whispered.

Her eyes had gone beyond the point of being narrowed further as she turned to fully face him. “Okay, you know what, fine,” she spoke defiantly as she folded her arms over her chest. “Tell me what I supposedly did wrong, and I’ll do the same. This is good, we can take this as like advice or whatever.”

“Exactly. We’re… helping each other out for uh, future partners or whatever,” he nodded.

“Uh-huh. All right Romeo, take it away,” Clarke smirked, leaning back into the couch. She watched as Bellamy sent her a grin before pushing himself up to stand in front of the couch. It was laughable the way he was standing like this were some important meeting, a look of determination on his face and his hands clasped together in front of him.

It was also kind of a mix between cute and incredibly fuckable, but Clarke tried to push that thought to the back of her mind. However, it didn’t work very well.

“First things first, the lights thing?” He began bringing his hands up to wave about in a confused manner. Clarke narrowed her eyes challengingly. “I’m being fucking serious. You can’t see without the lights on.”

“Excellent observation.”

“Shut-up,” he held a hand in her direction, glaring at her amused expression. “If the lights are off, I may as well be having sex with a fucking random—” Clarke raised an eyebrow and Bellamy winced. “Bad example. I may as well be having sex with anyone, but I want to be having sex with you. Like, the universal you not you in general – whatever, you get it. Lights off are so dreary and dull and it made me feel a bit disheartened actually. I couldn’t see you, and I don’t know if you’ve noticed but you’re kind of attractive and have an excellent body, I kind of want to be able to see that.”

“Right, lights on. Anything else?” Clarke spoke attempting to will away the blush that was rising on her cheeks at his compliment.

“Oh I’m just getting started,” he grinned. Shoving his hands into his pockets, he pursed his lips before gasping slightly and bringing his hands back up to clasp in front of him. He smiled almost manically. “You faked it.”

Clarke scoffed but wasn’t about to give him any satisfaction. “Not my fault you couldn’t get me there.”

Bellamy scowled at her response, and she smirked. “Which brings me to my next point – fucking communicate.” He threw his arms in the air. “How am I supposed to know what you want, or what you like if you don’t talk to me? I swear this isn’t just you – all, maybe bar one, girls I’ve been with haven’t physically told me or showed me what they wanted. Like, we’re having sex the ultimate goal is to get off. Tell me what you fucking want.”

Clarke hesitated before she spoke, biting down on her lower lip. “Doesn’t that like, dent guys ego or some bullshit?”

“If you’re a fucking pussy sure,” he chuckled. “Most guys would think it’s hot though. And it’s a god damn timesaver.”

Clarke rolled her eyes at that but nodded. “Okay fine. I’m sure I can handle that. Next?” She asked in a tone that insisted if he insulted her anymore he’d probably get hit, but the smartass only grinned cheekily at her.

“You took your clothes off so fucking fast it felt like it was a life or death situation.”

Clarke quirked an eyebrow. “Um. Never had complaints about how fast I get undressed, but okay then.”

“All right, fair enough but just – I don’t know, make it more…” he trailed off, the look on his face showing he was trying to look for the right word. “Alluring?”

“Were you going to say sexy?”

“Well I was, but I thought you hit me.”

“I kind of want to hit you regardless,” she smirked and in reaction he rolled his eyes. “Okay, make the taking off clothes bit more alluring. Whatever.”

She was being bitter about the whole situation, but could she be blamed? Then again, it wasn’t like any of her previous partners had shared this information with her, so she knew better than to throw it to the wind.

“Okay, one more thing,” Bellamy began, glaring as Clarke muttered a ‘finally’ under her breath. “Teeth. They’re great on some body parts yes. On others use them sure but like don’t excessively use them, that shit hurts.” Clarke furrowed her eyebrows, confused. Bellamy sighed. “Okay uh—” he began, raising his hand to wipe at his eyebrows. “At the risk of getting slapped – when you’re giving head. Grazing is good like that’s okay. Grazing softly with your teeth, don’t like graze hard it’s not the most comfortable thing.”

Clarke sighed. “Wasn’t aware I did that. Sorry… kind of. But okay, grazing is good, anything more is bad. You done?” She asked in an impatient tone with a teasing smirk on her lips. As Bellamy nodded, she nodded herself and hopped up. “Good. Sit.”

They switched positions promptly and as Clarke turned to face Bellamy she scowled at the way he was easily spread out on the couch, grinning up at her like a Cheshire cat. “Hit me, princess.”

“Okay, so firstly I have a serious question.” Bellamy quirked an eyebrow and Clarke smiled tightly. “Who taught guys to do the ‘alphabet with your tongue’ thing, hmm?” She asked as Bellamy’s jaw slackened. “Mm, because honestly, it felt like I was Helen Keller being fucked by her teacher.”

Bellamy was quiet for a few short beats before he snorted and folded his arms across his chest. “Charming.”

“Not quite as charming as actually receiving it. I can feel you spelling the alphabet out; it’s all I can concentrate on. There are so many better things you can do with that tongue. And from what I gathered from said alphabet thing, you have some talent with your tongue,” Bellamy’s eyebrows rose teasingly and Clarke held a hand to his face. “Hold it. But seriously, use it in a better way. It’ll go a long way.” She concluded. Bellamy now sat there glaring at her and she knew right then that she was right and that this was a horrible idea. “Other than that small thing, like stated you have an uh, very talented tongue. But anyway, moving on!” The chuckle that escaped Bellamy’s lips brought a scowl to Clarke’s. “I’m nowhere near done.”

“Oh, please. Continue.” Bellamy motioned to her with his hand, but Clarke could see the looming anger on his face. It made her smirk.

“You kept your socks on.”

“Excuse me for having cold feet in winter?” Bellamy spoke slowly and with caution to which Clarke slowly shook her head. “O-kay? No socks then…” he trailed off questioningly, and Clarke smiled and nodded approvingly.

“It kind of looked like you were a grown up toddler waddling around naked with your socks on. That’s not the kind of image I want during sex.”

Bellamy scrunched up his nose. “Right. Anything else?”

“Oh, yeah. You’re the one who wanted this, you’re going to get everything out of me,” she smirked to which Bellamy huffed (like a damn child) and folded his arms. “Okay, okay – there was one point where I was so close to coming, and I believe I may have hinted at that. What was it exactly I said?”

“I’m close to coming.”

“Right!” Clarke laughed sarcastically before she moved around the coffee table to perch on the couch beside him. Bellamy turned his body to face her as she sat. “And you did this… thing, like you kind of, changed up what you were doing. What was your thought process there?”

“Uh, well,” he began, clearing his throat. “I kind of went for a finishing move type of thing? Like, picked up the pace, changed the angle, mov—” Bellamy suddenly cut himself off at the pointed look on Clarke's face and he sighed. “No?”

“No.” Clarke agreed. “You got me as far as you did with what you were doing which generally means you can hit it right on home,” she smiled tightly, making a move as if she were hitting a home run. Bellamy narrowed his eyes. “Don’t. You asked for this shit, I’m just laying it all out there.”

“Fine. Anything else?”

“Uh…” she trailed off with a sheepish smile. “Maybe. Don’t want to bruise your precious ago anymore, though.”

“I can handle it.” He spoke through his teeth and Clarke widened her eyes but clasped her hands together and continued anything.

“O-kay,” she spoke with caution. “Just one more thing, when we were actually, you know, having sex you kind of were…” Clarke trailed off narrowed her eyes and pursing her lips as she tried to find her words. “Okay, to put it bluntly it was like you were a jackhammer and just, no, too much. Take it slightly slower and softer. Like not colossally slow, but slower than fucking me like you’re drilling for gold.” Clarke rolled her lips together as she took in Bellamy’s narrowed eyes and the anger behind them. She winced slightly before smiling and reaching over to place a hand on his arm. “Other than those things, it was good. You were perfectly decent.”

“Perfectly decent.” He repeated and Clarke rolled her eyes. “I have to say I’ve gotten better compliments in my life about how I am in bed, but okay then. Thanks.”

“See? I told you this was a bad idea; it’s hurt your stupid man ego. Guys can’t take honesty especially when it comes to sex. It’s like stepping on a damn puppy and you get all defensive. Hurts your feelings. You wanted honesty so I gave it to you, no hard feelings.”

“You know in my experiences women are brutally honest when they want to hurt someone’s feelings,” Bellamy pointed out. Clarke groaned and dropped her head to lean against the back of the couch. “But no, this was good. Thanks for the constructive criticism.” His tone insinuated he wasn’t taking any of her words to heart or as advice, so Clarke merely shook her head and kept her vision locked on the ceiling.

“You’re an asshole.”

“Mm, so I’ve been told.”

The two sat in silence for minutes, Clarke fuming and Bellamy pointedly not talking to her (like a child Clarke thought for the second time that evening). She turned her head to take in his stance; head tilted back against the couch, eyes closed and his lips pulled into a frown, he was the epitome of brooding child. Clarke rolled her eyes.

“I’m going to take a shower.”

“That’s allowed,” was Bellamy’s response to which Clarke snorted and shook her head before hopping up in the direction of the bathroom.

Clarke sighed a breath of relief as she stepped behind the bathroom door and leaned up against it. While she knew it was a horrible, terrible, stupid idea for them to exchange pointers because she knew Bellamy would get pissy about it, she couldn’t help but let his own pointers he had for her sink into her mind. Biting her lip, she thought briefly of putting them into action in the future – the mere idea of it soon had a groan escaping her lips. She wasn’t going to take his stupid advice if it was obvious he wouldn’t take hers.

She pushed herself off the door and began gathering her hair up to tie it up but groaned when she realised she still hadn’t found her fucking hair tie. Letting her hair fall to her neck she huffed out in annoyance. Glancing upward, she found herself staring at her figure in the full-length mirror in the bathroom.

(Clarke was slightly confused as to why an adult male had a full-length mirror in his bathroom. The whole thing brought a teasing smile to her lips – more specifically, the notion of Bellamy checking himself out in said mirror was what had her amused.)

Her eyes were focused upon herself in the mirror and she narrowed her eyes – the fleeting thought of Bellamy telling her that she could make the undressing part a little more appealing and dragged out crossed her mind. Biting her lip, she kept her eyes on herself as she slowly, and what she hoped was somewhat sensually, removed her jacket before letting it drop to the floor. She pushed her chest flush out as she stared upon her figure with confidence before cursing herself out at the stupidity that she’d succumbed to.

But then an idea crossed her mind.

 

 

Clarke found Bellamy still sitting on the couch when she walked out of the bathroom, but his eyes were glued to the TV now and the scowl that had been etched upon his features had disappeared. She perched herself on the back of the couch and leaned down to the remote, turning off the TV.

Before Bellamy could even protest, she spoke. “What if we tried again?”

“Uh, I don’t think my ego can take another battering, princess.” Bellamy chuckled.

“No!” Clarke groaned. She manoeuvred herself around the couch to sit beside him, his attention fully on her. “What if we… tried again? Put our newfound knowledge to test.”

Her words sunk in and Clarke could see the change in his realisation as his face moulded into something between a smug and shocked look. “Tried again, huh?” He licked his lips.

And damn him for doing so because now all Clarke could think was why the hell she thought this was a good idea when Bellamy looked like a fucking Greek God. And okay, maybe he wasn’t the worst person in bed, but with the things she’d told him and what he’d told her she had a feeling that this time round things would be mind-blowingly good and Clarke wasn’t sure she’d want to give that up afterwards.

“For scientific purposes, of course,” She tried to convince him, and herself really, with a stern look on her face. She was met with Bellamy’s as equally amused expression, but there was a dazed look lingering in his eyes and it had Clarke’s heart hammering in her chest.

“Science, huh?” Bellamy teased as he moved an inch closer to Clarke. She noticed with a short flick of her eyes to his moving body and back up to his face with a raised eyebrow. He licked his lips against and Clarke wanted to die. “You sure this isn’t ‘cause you can’t resist me?”

“Science.”

Who was she kidding? She wasn’t even convincing herself that was her reasoning.

“Okay, okay, science,” Bellamy defended, raising his arms mockingly.

His arms were lowered and all of a sudden the playful mood that was radiating from him shifted into something somewhat more lustful and suggestive. With the quirk of an eyebrow, the harsh swallow that had his Adam’s apple bobbing, the quickening of his breath – the mood had changed just like that.

Clarke sucked in a breath of her own as she took in his appearance before nodding like this was a business deal they were making. “Okay. So, in a usual date situation there may be a little build up or whatever, but considering our situation I think we can ju—” She was cut off promptly with Bellamy’s lips against her own and she let out a slight squeak at the sudden sensation.

The shock was soon worn off and replaced with a smile as she eagerly returned the kiss. It was soft and slow, unlike the kisses they’d shared last night that had been fast-paced and to the point. This was different, a good different, and Clarke stifled a gasp against Bellamy’s lips as his hands cradled her cheeks.

Something ticked between the two of them, the change in the tempo and atmosphere lingering around them as Bellamy’s hands trailed down Clarke’s body to grip at her waist as her arms moved to link around his neck. Soft kisses quickly turned needy and desperate. A spineless whimper escaped Clarke’s lips as Bellamy’s tongue swiped softly against her lower lip. He groaned out against her lips as she opened her mouth, allowing him entrance.

His tongue jetted out to trace the roof of her mouth and it had Clarke groaning and pulling away. Her hands had gripped the loose curls at the bottom of his neck, her breathing heavy as she stared at him with wide eyes. “Wha—what was that?” She breathed out.

Bellamy only smirked and leaned back in, pressing a soft kiss to the right corner of her lips before trailing downward – her chin, her jaw, her neck were peppered in soft kisses, her eyes fluttered shut at the sensation. “That was me kissing you,” Bellamy replied softly against the expanse of her neck before he pressed an open mouth kiss there.

Clarke whimpered at the feeling, suddenly deciding she needed to be closer to him. Shuffling towards him, Bellamy seemed to catch onto her idea, all while his lips were attached to her neck, and gripped at her waist as she moved to swing a leg over his hips, straddling him square on the couch.

“And why didn’t you kiss me like that last night?” She stuttered slightly as his lips started peppering softer, teasing kisses against her skin. She groaned and grinded down in his lap, a smirk forming on her lips as a strangled groan bubbled up out of his. His hands deftly gripped at her waist to stop her movement before his teeth softly grazed at the spot on her neck. The notion had Clarke dropping her head to the side for better access, a gasp escaping her lips.

“Didn’t feel like it,” Bellamy mumbled. His tongue jetted out to lick at the spot he’d grazed, then went to sucking softly against her creamy skin. Clarke hated marks, but she couldn’t find it in herself to stop him from his current ministrations, and the feeling of his lips against her skin was something she didn’t quite want to stop anyway.

“Jerk,” she mumbled out, her hands moving back to grip at the loose tendrils of his hair. He groaned into her neck and his grip on her waist slackened slightly, so she went back about grinding herself down into his lap. That and the sensation of his lips against her skin sent heat directly to her core.

“Bedroom,” Bellamy idly muttered against her neck. His lips trailed back up her jaw and cheek to her lips where he roughly captured them before pulling her against him and standing up. Clarke’s legs immediately latched around his waist as he walked, determined to never break the kiss.

Bellamy stumbled over something on the way and a giggle bubbled over her lips as a curse escaped his. Hands gripping tightly at her waist, Bellamy pushed her up against a wall as they reached his room his lips ghosting against hers. “Permission to remove your clothing?” He breathed out and Clarke smirked.

“I thought the point of this was to learn from our earlier mistakes,” she whispered teasingly with a soft press of her lips against his. Clarke shimmied out from his grip and he let her drop to her feet. Turning the tables, Clarke pushed Bellamy back towards and onto the bed and the spark in his expression told Clarke she was doing something right.

Before anything, she sauntered to the light switch where she turned the lights off, but then walked back to turn a lamp on that rested at the side of his bed. Bellamy nodded, a smile on his lips.

“Compromise. Excellent choice.”

“Thank-you,” she smirked.

Her heart hammering in her chest, she turned around with a smirk as she tried to rid any signs of nervousness – it was just sex for god sake, she was twenty-three years old, she could fucking do this. She could be alluring.

Her remaining jacket was dropped to the floor first before she turned back around to face Bellamy, her heart beating at the lust in his eyes. Biting down on her lower lip through a smirk, she grasped the bottom of her shirt before pulling it over her head slower than she usually would and dropping it to the floor. The entire time she moved, her eyes never left Bellamy’s, even as she turned on a slight angle and unclasped her jeans and bent slowly, tauntingly to pull them down her legs. Her eyes dropped to the floor for a millisecond and before she could even comprehend it, she was hoisted back into the air and thrown down onto the bed.

A gasp escaped her lips that were soon covered by Bellamy’s lips and eager behaviour. “Slow and sexy is fucking good, and I still stand by my choice of saying that, but right now I kind of just want to touch you,” he vaguely explained himself. Clarke only mumbled an incoherent agreement, as her hands were far more interested in yanking his shirt off. Bellamy picked up on her intentions, pulling back slightly to wrench the item off his body.

Clarke bit her lip as she took in the view of his toned chest, swallowing harshly before looking back up at him. Her eyes never left his as she raised her back and undid the clasp of her bra, quickly pulling the material off her body and tossing it carelessly to the side – to hell with slow, Clarke wanted him now.

A change in their attitudes towards each other hung about in the air and neither Clarke or Bellamy could come up with a comprehensive thought as to why this was a bad idea. Hands were desperate and eyes were wide with lust and they were both completely fucked without actually having been fucked yet.

“Screw slow,” she mumbled, ghosting against his lips before she pushed them back together. Bellamy grunted, his body pressing down further into hers which had Clarke moaning at the sensation of her nipples brushing against his chest.

Bellamy’s chuckle rumbled through her body as he detached their lips and began trailing kisses down her jaw, her neck, her chest before he pressed a delicate kiss to the swell of her breast. Clarke looked at him under hooded eyes, her breath hitching as he glanced up at her.

“These are fucking great, by the way, did I say that last night?” He mumbled before peppering his lips further down her breasts. His eyes directly in her line of vision, his tongue darted out and swirled around her nipple while his hand moved up to mould against her left breast.

“Uh, mentioned it once or twice,” Clarke breathed out, trying to keep her voice from wavering but failed incandescently to her dismay.

His motions against her skin had her flushing all over. Her hips ground up into his and Bellamy groaned against her breast, glancing up at her perilously.

“You’re playing a dangerous game, princess.”

“You’re fucking teasing me, do something.”

Bellamy smirked, his lips detaching from her skin as he glided up her body. His hands rested firmly beside her fanned out hair, his tongue darting out to wet his lips, his glistening chest pressed against her own – he was a sight for sore eyes.

Clarke couldn’t help but wonder what the hell was different this time round. The first time was okay, vanilla in an aspect, pleasurable even if she didn’t quite get there – this was vivid and fast paced and the looming look in his eyes was reflected in her own. Perhaps it was the need to prove that they could both take each other’s advice and fully utilise it. But no, this was for science.

“Do something?” His voice was low against her ear and it sent a shudder down her body. Her hands crept between their pressed bodies to push him up slightly so she could fumble with his zipper.

“Something. Anything. I don’t care.”

Nimble fingers pushed down the zipper rapidly as she attempted to shuck away the jeans – she failed, of course, eliciting a chuckle from Bellamy’s lips. Rolling her eyes, she mustered her strength to flip the two of them over so she was straddling his hips.

She earned a raised eyebrow from him, but then he smirked at the obvious sight of her bared above him and cockily raised his hands to rest behind his head. “Can’t complain about the view.”

Clarke smirked at that, leaning down to pepper a line of kisses down his neck. She felt him writhe beneath her, which only provoked her to continue her path.

“So, less teeth. Just grazing…” she trailed off, her eyes flickering up to him as she continued her path of kisses down his chest, her tongue jetting out to swipe over his nipple as she did so.

Bellamy only grunted in response, and Clarke smirked.

To her pleasure, he eagerly complied when she went about shucking his jeans down (and made a big note of removing his socks as she did so – Bellamy rolled his eyes fondly in response). A split second later, she yanked his boxer briefs down tossing them to join the growing pile of clothes. His erection sprang before her and she rolled her lips together in an attempt to not drop her mouth. Looking up at him from her place on his thighs, she nodded. “No biting.”

 

 

Her voice was soft and raspy and it had him in a daze as he nodded. A sharp intake of breath was all he could manage as Clarke’s hand moved to grasp at him so softly he thought he might die. He couldn’t help but shudder, which had Clarke smirking in response and shuffling further up his thighs. Bellamy’s vision never faltered from her once.

Her eyes flickered from his length to his gaze, daringly raising an eyebrow with a look of lust spread across her features. Bellamy figured that in that moment that she did know what she was doing, and last night was totalled down to the fast paced heat of the moment and the weirdness of them essentially being strangers and sleeping together for the first time without the assistance of alcohol.

This time round, Bellamy was certain it’d be nothing short of pleasurable.

Bellamy’s eyes slammed shut for the first time the moment Clarke’s tongue touched his cock. He opened them mere moments after to watch as she ran her tongue from the base to the tip before pressing a soft kiss there. His breathing had quickened extraordinarily at the sight of her mouth on him, and a groaned slipped past his lips as she encased him with her mouth, her eyes directly looking up at him. He could feel her smiling around him, which had him rolling his eyes but fisting the comforter below him with need.

Her tongue was against his shaft and Bellamy’s eyes at this point had fluttered shut. A change lingered between the two of them in comparison to last night and whatever it was Bellamy wasn’t about to complain about it.

The feeling of her mouth hot against him was enough to have him building with pleasure. A stifled groan escaped his lips, and he fell further into a daze as her free hand came to wrap around the base of his cock where her mouth couldn’t quite reach. He was climbing higher and higher on the path of an orgasm with every touch – she was _killing_ him.

Her eyes were on him as he glanced down at her, his hips thrusting upward slightly. He winced, but Clarke looked smug at his movements – he had no fucking idea how she looked smug from her current position, mouth firmly wrapped around him, but the idea had his arousal heightening. He watched as she slowly tore her mouth from him, the protest that was about to lift his lips soon replaced by a guttural groan as he tongue connected with the tip of him, her hand pumping the base. She was sending him dangerously higher and higher on a path towards an orgasm with every lick and touch.

It was difficult, torturous even to pry Clarke away from him. He groaned at the confusion in her eyes as he tugged at her hair and a muttered, “Clarke, up,” escaped his lips desperately. He opened his eyes to find hers wide and a shade darker than usual, his eyes narrowing in lust at the sight.

“What?” Her voice was raspy; concerned even, but then she absorbed the dazed look on his features and smirked.

He didn’t respond verbally, only rolled his eyes softly and motioned for her to come to him. She glided up his body and once again they were attached at the lips, hot, hard and heavy.

His hands had slipped to her waist, tugging her firmly against him and at the moan that escaped her lips he smiled. “I wasn’t complaining,” he spoke, breathy as he pulled away from her. “That was a little too good to keep going,” he mumbled before attaching their lips again. He felt her smirk against his lips and he growled, suddenly wanting her to have a taste of her own medicine.

He was quick to flip them over, smirking at her sudden gasp. His smirk only broadened when the notion of his lips against her neck had her grasping his hair tightly. The pulling only sparked a little pain, but nothing he couldn’t handle, if anything it turned him on further.

A path was etched down her body with his lips, and Clarke’s breath increased each second. Pressing a soft kiss to the corner of her hip, he chuckled as she shivered involuntarily and then let out a husky “shut up”.

Soft kisses pressed themselves along her waist as he made work of pushing the scrap of underwear down her legs. The sense of doing it for the second time in less than 24 hours had him grinning, and Clarke noticed.

“What?”

His grin turned sheepish as he rested his chin just above her pelvic bone. “Nothing,” he spoke, innocence running through his tone all the while his hand was dragging up her leg. “Just the idea of it being the second time in less than a day that I’ve removed these panties…” he trailed off, eyes firmly planted on her as her breathing quickened significantly.

It was then that his fingers met her heat and a mumbled cursed escaped his lips at her wetness. At the same time, an appreciative moan left hers. He looked up at her with awe. “It’s a good thought,” He finished leeringly as his middle finger slipped between her folds and inside of her.

It was nothing different from last night thus far; his finger pumping in and out of her, but the look on her face had vastly changed. What was once anger and frustration exuding from her expression was replaced with lust and need, her eyes flickering down to him with want. In a split second, Bellamy had the urge to give this girl the most powerful orgasm she'd ever experienced, and this time he wasn't stopping until he knew she was spent and through.

He smirked at her dazed expression and removed his finger, chuckling at her wince of protest. But her complaint was soon replaced with a longing moan as he spread her apart with his thumbs, tongue flattening out against her folds before licking from bottom to top.

Clarke’s hands went straight back to their place at his hair, her once semi-loud appreciative moans turning silent as her chest rapidly moved from hard breathing instead.

Bellamy’s eyes cast up at her from his position; the sight of her heavy breathing, closed lids and hands threaded through his hair only heightened the desire he had to get her off. He smirked against her and he faintly heard her scoff. His right hand moved down her slit, two fingers slipping through her folds with ease as his tongue focused on her clit – Clarke’s curse could’ve been heard by the neighbours, he was sure.

“Come on, Clarke,” he mumbled against her, not wavering from his ministrations. His eyes were fixed on her expression, watching in sheer awe as she squeezed her eyes shut and her thighs clenched around his cheeks. Mouth attached to her clit, fingers pumping in and out of her, he was in fucking paradise and he mentally cursed himself for not doing it this way the previous night. He flattened his tongue out against her and brought his free hand to push her hips down into the mattress just as an explicit scream left her lips. His mouth and fingers didn't falter from their actions as he rode her through her orgasm.

A moment was all the breather they had before Clarke was desperately yanking at Bellamy’s hair, careful not to hurt him – he got the memo, slinking up her body as she dragged his lips down to hers. The taste of herself against his lips had her gasping, but it was stifled in the back of her throat as his lips meshed against hers. Bellamy chuckled and she slapped the side of her arm.

“Better?” He mumbled before trailing down her neck.

“Much,” was all she managed to get out as his teeth grazed against her skin before his tongue flattened out to sooth against the red mark.

Clarke’s hand shot out to the side table that she remembered Bellamy retrieved a condom from last night, fingers fiddling for the drawer. Sensing her struggle, Bellamy reached out instead, opening the draw and leaning away from her briefly to rummage through it.

A deep breath escaped her lungs as she lolled her head to the side watching as Bellamy turned back to her, that ever present fucking smirk still lingering on his lips. She narrowed her eyes briefly, but his lips upon hers soon wiped off the hard expression quite pleasantly.

The kiss was fast but not rushed and both pulled away momentarily, merely staring at each other. Then, like a chain reaction, Bellamy winked so Clarke smirked, and he did in return before lining himself up at her entrance. The heat had become too much, and as he pushed inside of her he captured her gasp with his mouth.

Clarke’s legs locked around his waist as he pushed all the way in, both pulling away to gasp in air. A mumbled, “fuck,” escaped Bellamy’s lips as his forehead dropped to hers. Both still utterly confused as to why it was so much better this time and they’d hardly done anything, but they weren’t about to question it.

Clarke’s mouth gaping slightly, she nodded frantically at his words. “Yeah, do that,” she mumbled before moving up to capture his lips with hers again. Her hands tangled in his hair as his hips snapped into hers, his hands gripping tightly at her waist. This was a total increase in performance from the night before.

What started out as a somewhat slow, lustful, but full of desire pace ticked into fast heat the moment Bellamy trailed his lips back down to Clarke’s neck. The moan that reverberated through he room had him cursing against her slick skin as his hips sped up in pleasure. He was mostly unbeknownst to the fact that his hips shuttered into her at a frantic pace until her head was dropped back and a string of curses escaped her lips.

“I—I need,” she trailed off, her fingers clawing into the sheets below her as her knuckles turned white. Bellamy grinned down at her as best as he could before weaving a hand through their bodies to press down on her pebbled clit. “Oh!” She moaned, her head shooting up slightly before dropping back to the bed. Her eyes wide and wild on him and he bit his lip as he watched her, his finger swirling with the right amount of pace around her bundle of nerves. “Fuck,” she mumbled.

“Clarke,” he ground out through the sensation of her slick heat around his cock, the feel of her skin pulsating below his fingertips. His head dropped to her shoulder, teeth slightly sinking into the skin and it seemed like that was enough.

Her keening echoed throughout the room as she came undone, her head dropping back, mouth in a silent ‘O’ as she rode through her orgasm. The sight and feel of her letting go around his cock was enough to set off his own release, cursing back into her shoulder where his head had dropped again, his thrusts turning lazy as he finished himself off.

They lay silent for a few moments, heavy breathing the only sound resonating through the room.

Begrudgingly, Bellamy rolled off of Clarke and the bed with a groan as he disposed of the condom in the connected bathroom. As he turned back to her he stopped in his tracks – she’d turned on her side, biting her lip as she gazed up at him. She was a sight for sore eyes and Bellamy wondered why they fucked this up with sex straight off the bat because she was exactly the kind of girl he could find himself being with.

“Well, fuck,” he let out earning a raised eyebrow from Clarke. He chuckled and shook his head, padding back over to the bed where he dropped down and pressed a kiss to her forehead. He pulled away just in time to see her soft smile.

“So,” Clarke began, her hand travelling up to draw aimless patterns on his bicep. Bellamy rolled over slightly so he could fully face her.

“So…”

Clarke rolled her lips together in attempt to hide a smile, but the sight alone brought one to Bellamy’s lips and he was soon laughing. Moments later, she joined in.

“Why was that so much better?” She asked with wonder laced through her tone.

Bellamy reached out to twirl a strand of hair around his fingers, something he’d taken a liking to doing in their short time spent together. “First times are always awkward. We didn’t know what the other liked or wanted,” he shrugged.

“What happened to communication?” Clarke teased, bringing up one of his points from earlier.

“Shut up,” he said with a chuckle, shaking his head. “You know what I mean.”

 

 

Clarke hummed and nodded, relaxing into his touch. This was, without a doubt, the weirdest experience of her life, but she found herself revelling in it. Besides, who could say they’d had a two-night stand with someone?

Fighting all rationality, Clarke grinned sheepishly and rolled over to brush her lips against his. It took a second for him to return it, but he did with the exact amount of heat she did – it was soft and slow but didn’t need to be anything more than that. It was kind of perfect.

Bellamy’s hands found her waist and smiled into the kiss before he pulled away slightly with laughter. “Give a guy a breather, princess.” He grinned.

“Mhm,” she mumbled with her own smile only for it to be wiped away as his lips pressed against hers again with an equal amount of heat as before.

 

. . .

 

It was brighter when they woke up, the sun slightly shining through the open window. It was enough to see that the snow had stopped, but, of course, neither inhabitants of the bed wanted to mention that.

Bellamy’s arm was curled around Clarke’s front, the comforter pulled up haphazardly over the two of them as they lay in silence. Both had small smiles dancing on their lips, but a hidden melancholy was etched in the air, as they both knew there was no real reason for Clarke to stay any longer.

Besides it was Sunday now, and both had work the next day.

Begrudgingly, Bellamy’s grip loosened on her stomach and he could hear a slight whimper of protest drawn from Clarke’s lips. He chuckled softly and she mumbled a ‘shut up’ as she rolled over to face him.

“Morning,” Bellamy whispered as his hand immediately went back to rest on her waist. Clarke smiled.

“Morning.”

“Breakfast?” His voice was full of hesitance, but Clarke bit her lip and nodded through a smile.

As he went to hop up, the throbbing of his head made an unwelcome presence and a groan escaped his lips. Clarke’s expression was concerned, but as she sat up herself she was met with her own throbbing pain and a matching whimper of pain fled her lips.

“Fuck. I forgot how much we drank yesterday,” Bellamy grumbled, running a hand down his face. He hopped up from the bed and padded over to his chest of draws and pulled out a fresh pair of boxer briefs and a t-shirt.

When he turned back around after dressing he found Clarke sitting upright, the sheet wrapped tightly around her chest as a small, amused smile danced on her lips. The sight alone had Bellamy’s heart hammering in his chest and the thought of being able to get used to that sight washed through his mind like a tidal wave. But he pushed away the thought as fast as it came – he couldn’t think about that.

“You checking me out, princess?” He settled for, leaning against the wall with a smirk on his lips.

“Maybe,” she replied with a wink. He chuckled, shaking his head as he turned around to exit the room.

“Your choices are limited to toast this morning. I have no more food,” he called out on his way to the kitchen. A muffled ‘okay’ sounded and he smiled as he gathered the food items from the fridge and went about making coffee.

 

 

Clarke wandered around the room, gathering her underwear and pulling them on as she found them. Biting down on her lip, her eyes casted from her clothing and then towards Bellamy’s shirt. For a vague moment, she thought about pulling his shirt on and walking out there like that but shook her head. No. That was something couples did, and they were far beyond that.

Even though they’d spilt some of the most private things in their life to each other, and had sex twice, they were still practically strangers. They were nowhere near relationship material.

She pulled her own clothing on in the end and walked out to the kitchen to join Bellamy.

He smiled upon her arrival, placing a steaming cup of coffee in front of her alongside two paracetamol tablets. She smiled in thanks, downing the tablets with a sip of coffee. “Mm,” she moaned softly at the taste of the coffee, her vision darting to Bellamy. “This is good.”

He shrugged with a smile in response. Just then, the toast popped up, and he went back about gathering food items.

Sitting down across from her in the position much like yesterday morning, they both dug into their food. Silence hung in the air, but it wasn’t awkward, it was a contented silence they both enjoyed.

“Should check the weather,” Bellamy said after a few minutes of silence. He’d finished his food and Clarke was taking the last bite – her food hovered between her mouth and fingers as the words slipped from his lips. She swallowed harshly before taking the food in her mouth and nodding.

“Yeah.” She tried her hardest to not sound upset, she honestly did, but it was hard to mask that. If Bellamy noticed, he did an excellent job at pretending he didn’t as he grabbed their plates and cups and dumped them in the sink.

Both settled down on the couch as Bellamy leaned over to turn the TV on. Larry appeared and they both instantly smiled at the tragic weatherman.

_“Folks, you’ll be happy to hear the storm is all cleared and it’s A-Okay to trek on outside now! It’s been a feat these past 24 hours, with half the city out of power and approximately…”_

His voice trailed off in the background as both Clarke and Bellamy glanced to each other with wary looks. All Clarke could think of was the fact that his expression mirrored hers, so at least she wasn’t alone in the feeling of not wanting to leave.

“I’m going to the bathroom,” Bellamy mumbled with a soft smiled before shooting up and disappearing.

Clarke groaned softly once she’d heard the door shut behind him, her eyes slamming shut. She could say something, right now and end this fucking stupid dance they had embedded themselves in – they could go get lunch, they could go on a date, they could try at a relationship.

But she was Clarke, that wasn’t going to happen.

Instead, she hopped off the couch and walked aimlessly around his living area. Her eyes landed on a shelf of photos and she smiled as she walked over towards them. Frames were littered on the shelves, different faces in each one.

She smiled at the sight of a photo of an obvious younger Bellamy and a younger girl with similar features atop his shoulders. She chuckled softly at the photo of him and a slightly goofy looking guy with droopy long hair, as they both were mid-fall into a pool. She narrowed her eyes slightly at the photo of him and a guy in a beanie – oh! She grinned, putting a mental note to the back of her mind to ask Bellamy if this was the guy that worked at The Ark, but that thought soon evaporated when her vision lingered on the next photo.

He was pictured with a girl, his arms wrapped around her waist and lips pressed to the side of her head – it was obvious this was the ex, but that wasn’t what had her shaking. It was the girl she’d seen Finn with a couple of nights ago at the bar, it was the girl he’d been dating whilst he was dating her and Raven, she was Bellamy’s ex that had left him for Finn – this one girl had a way of etching herself into any relation with a guy she had, and it pulled a sick feeling from her stomach.

“So, hey, I was thinking—” Bellamy’s voice began as Clarke turned around rapidly with a wild look in her eyes. Bellamy’s eyebrows rose. “Hey, what?” His tone was significantly lower.

“I—” She began, fluttering around the room. “I have to go.” She spoke rapidly as she moved to grab her jacket from the couch, pulling it on as she left for his room to grab the other jacket.

 

 

Bellamy stood like a stunned mullet in his place, merely watching in shock as Clarke moved about his apartment. “What?” He eventually managed to say. All confidence he’d mustered up to actually ask her out to lunch had gone and was replaced with the fear of losing her.

“I just—I have to go!” Her voice was strained and his eyes flickered to the shelf where she’d been standing, wondering if it’d been something there that had startled her. He opened his mouth to speak but was promptly cut off. “I—I’m sorry. Last night was… really good, I just. I can’t do this. I have to go.”

He watched as she rushed towards his door and it was then that he finally moved and rushed after her. “Wait!” He called, shoving himself between her and the door. “What—what’s going on? What’s wrong?”

Clarke’s exasperated sigh and the dropping of her head had him concerned. “Clarke? Are you okay?”

“No!” She piped up, startling him slightly. “Sorry,” she winced before taking a significant breath. “I just—this was a mistake. I’m sorry,” she repeated for the millionth time.

Bellamy’s stance slackened against the door, the words ‘this was a mistake’ echoing through his mind. He watched her with weary eyes as she rolled her lips together and opened her mouth to speak, but soon shut her mouth afterward. She sighed and pushed herself around him, and Bellamy, not in his right mind, let her.

He heard the door click behind him, and he had no idea how long he’d been standing there for but by the time he’d rushed out of his apartment and down outside, it was too late, because there was no sign of Clarke in any direction he looked.

A string of curses left his lips and he was met with a sound of disgust. Turning to his side he found two old ladies sitting on the bench near him and he smiled weakly. Then he widened his eyes, rushing towards them as they looked at him with disgust.

“You didn’t see a girl come out of here did you? Blonde, about yay high, really pretty?”

“Trouble in paradise, mister?” One taunted while the other pursed her lips.

He rolled his eyes. “Something like that,” He responded, looking at both of the expectantly.

Both smiled sadly at him suddenly and he groaned. “Sorry boy, we both just got here.”

“It’s—” He cut himself off with a deep breath. “It’s fine. Thanks anyway,” he spoke with a smile as he ventured back into his apartment.

Well, fuck.

 

. . .

 

“So, wait,” a soft, feminine voice spoke over the static phone line. “You met her on that stupid dating website, had a one-night stand, got snowed in, you both bonded in some weird way and then she left all of a sudden?”

“Yes.”

“Did you scare her off that bad?”

“Octavia, you are not helping right now.”

Her laughter echoed over the receiver and Bellamy rolled his eyes, slouching further down into the couch. It’d only been an hour since Clarke had mysteriously left his apartment and 10 minutes since Bellamy had called his sister hoping she’d be able to tell him what to do.

“What the hell did you call me for?”

“Can’t you think of anything I can do to like, I don’t know contact her?” His voice was full of desperation and the line went silent for a few moments. He paused for a beat before sighing. “Octavia?”

“Are you serious right now?”

“Uh, yes? Why would I tell you all this otherwise?”

“You met her on a dating site, Bellamy,” she spelled it out to him, causing his eyes to widen. “Get back on the stupid site and, oh I don’t know, message her there?”

Instead of replying, Bellamy sprung from the couch and headed for the kitchen where he opened the lid of his laptop. Opening the Internet browser, and directing his way to the website, he was practically jumping as he waited for the page to load. As soon as it had done so, his eyes when straight to his matches only to see that the conversation with Clarke was now replaced with the words _Unknown User_.

“Fuck,” he mumbled as he dropped his head to the counter.

“What?” Octavia’s voice rang out over the line.

“She deleted her profile,” he groaned, repeatedly dropping his head to the hard marble counter. “She’s been gone for an hour, how the fuck had she already thought to delete it? What the hell did I even do wrong?” He spoke, mostly to himself.

“Sorry to interrupt your girl dilemma, Bell, but I have to go,” Octavia began. Bellamy could hear shuffling in the background and a faint screech and smiled softly. “Any chance you want to look after your pain in the ass niece today?” She grumbled.

Bellamy chuckled. “No can do, O, busy day you know, trying to figure out how the hell I can get in contact with Clarke.”

“Well, good luck,” she responded and Bellamy could practically hear the smile in her tone. “I’ll see you during the week,” she finished. Bellamy went to hang up but not before he heard a scolding _‘Aurora Jane if you don’t cooperate in three seconds’_ and a screeching giggle. He shook his head with a smile as he ended the call.

His eyes fluttered back to the screen of his laptop, sighing as he read over the words _Unknown User_ again. Testing his luck, he clicked on the link only to be greeted with a page that read ‘ _Sorry, we seem to be having some trouble locating this profile. It appears this user has deactivated’_. It set off another round of disgruntled groaning from the pits of his stomach.

He slumped back out into the living room, about to sit on the couch when he remembered that Clarke had been looking at the photos that littered his shelf. Raising an eyebrow curiously, he headed towards the shelf, his eyes immediately landing on the one of Miller and his eyes widening in sudden realisation.

He bounded over to grab his phone, dialling and hitting call, bouncing on the pads of his feet as he waited for a response.

“Took you a fucking day to call back, what the hell happened wi—”

“Shut-up,” he cut him off, ignoring the curse of protest that slipped from Miller’s lips. “Is there a girl who comes to the bar sometimes, or at all, blonde hair, blue eyes, got an amazing rack—”

“You’re talking to the wrong person for that minor detail—”

“—really fucking pretty, her hair’s kind of curly and I think she wears it up a lot because she kept asking where the hell her hair tie was, she probably hangs out with another girl, she—”

“Wait,” Miller cut him off, Bellamy groaning breathlessly. “Are you talking about the girl who you slept with the other night?”

“Yes. I don’t know if you’ve realised, but there’s been a fucking snowstorm going on outside. She got stuck at mine last night as well, and well she’s not actually bad, in fact she’s kind of amazing and we had sex again and it was fucking mind-blowing, but then this morning she just… left and I have no idea why, and I can’t—”

“Holy shit,” Miller’s laughter cut him off.

“Shut-up.”

“It’s like you’re in love with her or something god, she really do that much of a number on you, huh?” Miller teased. Bellamy rolled his eyes, staying quiet. “But uh, I’m not sure. I don’t really keep track of the customers that come in.”

Bellamy raised an eyebrow, momentarily side-tracked. “We both know that’s a lie.” He could hear Miller scoffing in the background at the mention of the dark-haired guy Miller had served multiple times but had never gotten his name. “Back on point – doesn’t ring a bell at all?”

“Well, there’s a blonde girl who sometimes hangs around uh, _him_ and his friends.” Bellamy’s eyes widened, a silver of hope etching in his mind. “They’re usually here every Sunday, and they were here the other night when you got laid, and I swear I almost got his name, but—”

“Are you working tonight?”

 

. . .

 

Hours later when the sun had set and it was nearing eight o’clock, Bellamy was perched against the bar at The Ark, a cup of whiskey in front of him – never mind the fact that it was his third glass in approximately half an hour.

Miller kept shooting him apologetic looks and Bellamy rolled his eyes every so often at his friend. He knew he was being pathetic, mooning over a girl he had a one— _two_ -night stand with, but he couldn’t help it.

Somewhere along the line something changed between the two of them. Maybe it was the fact that they’d both shared pretty pivotal and deep moments of their life. Maybe it was the way she laughed at every stupid response he come up with in Cards Against Humanity. Maybe it was the way her hair framed her face like a halo, Bellamy unable to stop his fingers from reaching out to delicately move through the tresses. Maybe it was the way they blatantly flirted over the website the way you would with a teenage crush. Maybe it was the second round of awesome sex.

He didn’t know, but all he knew was that he should’ve asked her out on a date instead of jumping straight into a one-night stand.

“No luck?” Miller’s voice interrupted his thoughts. He glanced up to see his friend cleaning a glass and looking at him with an expression mixed between amusement and a soft guilt.

Bellamy grumbled out a negative response as he leaned forward to down the rest of his drink. Miller’s chuckle echoed through his ears vaguely as he walked away to serve a customer.

It’d been well over an hour, his fifth drink had been sitting there taunting him for a while now and he was about ready to give up. This was stupid – he was waiting in a bar that he wasn’t even sure she frequently visited, hoping, praying that she’d miraculously show up.

With a deep sigh, he downed the remainder of his drink and looked up to get Miller’s attention to tell him he was leaving but stopped short. Because Miller was talking, actually talking, to the dark haired guy he’d been fawning over for the past few months. Momentarily, Bellamy forgot what he was doing and just watched in awe and amusement as his friend finally plucked the courage to talk to the boy.

He was smiling until he realised Miller’s words from earlier on the phone.

_Well, there’s a blonde girl who sometimes hangs around uh, him and his friends._

Bellamy turned around so fast he was surprised he hadn’t given himself major whiplash as his eyes scanned the bar. It was filled to the brim, making it slightly hard to look around. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched as Miller’s love interest manoeuvred his way through the crowd towards a group of people. His eyes landed on the group and he scanned them.

A kid with weird goggles on his head; Miller’s love interest; a guy with oddly fluffy, blond hair; a very attractive brunette female; a girl with blonde ha— _Clarke_.

His grip tightened on the glass he hadn’t realised he was holding on to as he watched her. She was smiling softly at her friends, thanking Miller’s love interest as he handed her a drink. She was uncharacteristically quiet as she sipped at her drink, merely watching her friends as they spoke over the top of each other loudly.

His breathing had quickened and his heart rate skyrocketed that much that he almost didn’t take note of Miller standing behind him.

“Dude,” his voice broke through finally, Bellamy turning back around to face him. Something in his expression would’ve given a hint away as a smirk upturned on Miller’s lips. “Found her?”

“Found her,” Bellamy spoke after a beat.

Miller clamped his shoulder before going back about his own business, leaving Bellamy to fend for himself. He turned back around to watch the group again, Clarke still looking quiet from where he sat. A frown pulled against his lips, and he suddenly wished he had another drink to down before he approached her.

Shaking off any doubts embedded in his mind, he pushed himself away from the bar and made his way through the crowd.

The crowd was thick and blocking his direct path, leading him to walk around the throngs of people and up the back of where Clarke was sitting. It was the other girl that recognised him first – she looked at him with narrowed eyes as he slowly approached before her eyes widened, flickered down to Clarke and back up to him with a gaped mouth. Within hearing range, Bellamy bit his lip as he heard Clarke speak.

“What? Is Finn here again? I swear to god…” Clarke trailed off with a groan. The friend shook her head and then nodded towards him.

As Clarke turned around he gauged her reaction. First the confusion then the shock and alarm on her features. He watched as her mouth dropped in realisation before she hurriedly hopped up and stood in front of him.

“Bellamy,” her voice was breathy and nervous as she folded her arms over her chest.

“Hey,” he managed to whisper offering her a small smile.

“What are you doing here?”

“I, uh,” he mumbled, his hand reaching up to scratch the back of his neck. “I remembered you said you were here the other night, and my friend Miller works the bar. Asked him if he’d seen you, but lucky for me he’s kind of smitten for your friend here,” he motioned to the blushing boy. "So it made it somewhat easier to track you down."

Clarke didn’t turn, only looked at him with wide eyes. “I meant here in front of me.”

That he rolled his eyes at. “Why do you think, Clarke?” She only stared at him in response. “Why did you – what happened this morning? One minute it was all fine and then you just…” he trailed off, waving his hands about in an attempt to expression emotion. The sight had soft laughter pulling from Clarke’s lips.

He watched as she rolled her lips together and darted her vision back towards her group of friends briefly before turning her attention back to him. “Come with me,” she mumbled so lowly that he almost didn’t catch it. In fact he wouldn’t have if it weren’t for her hand grasping his and dragging him outside into the cool breeze.

Both shuddered upon arrival outside, arms clutching to arms as they attempted to warm up. Bellamy hesitantly looked at Clarke, only to find her already gazing up at him with equal hesitance. He squared off his shoulders and offered a raised eyebrow instead.

Clarke let out an exasperated sigh and brought her hands to her head. “My ex is the guy your ex left you for.”

He blankly stared at her for a few moments, her words processing through his mind before he narrowed his eyes on her and shook his head in confusion. What?

“I was looking at photos, and at first I saw one of your bartender friend and was going to ask you about him because Monty is so disgustingly into him, but—not the point. I saw a photo of you and Roma, and she’s—she uh, she’s the girl I saw Finn with the other night, and the girl he was with when he was with me and Raven, and just—I freaked out okay?”

Her breathing was erratic as Bellamy looked at her – his vision was blank mostly as he tried to take in her words, and as he did he merely shut his eyes and shook his head. “Too confusing,” he mumbled to himself mostly, but the slight laughter that drew from Clarke’s lips at his words had him smiling. He glanced up at her through his eyelashes, letting out a breath of air.

Small flakes of snow dropped on her cheeks and hair – that goddamn hair still radiating around her face like a halo. She’d changed from earlier this morning, but the outfit complemented her as equally as the other did. Then again, Bellamy was sure she would look good in anything. Her lower lip was drawn between her teeth, nervously, as she looked up at him and he just shook his head at the sight – he hadn’t meant to want to get to know her, but she made it so easy standing there looking like an ethereal beauty. He wanted to get to know her, he wanted to spend time with her, he wanted her.

“I—I don’t care, Clarke.”

Her eyebrows lowered. “What?”

“I—” He cut himself off with an unbelievable chuckle. “If I knew that, if you explained that to me this morning back when you figured it out I still would’ve asked you out like I’d planned to.”

“You were going to ask me out?” Her voice had dropped and octave and was full of disbelief at his words.

Bellamy only nodded, apprehensively albeit.

“Oh,” Clarke’s tone of realisation had him smiling softly, but not saying a word. She watched him with wide eyes and a slightly gaped open mouth. “But—ugh. I just.” She paused. “I saw her picture and just got intensely annoyed because she must be doing something right if she had you, but then also managed to snag my boyfriend. I don’t even know the girl, but I feel oddly intimidated by her. Like she’s popping up in two of the romantic encounters I’ve had in the pa—”

Bellamy cut her off with a kiss.

A startled peep sang from her lips at the sudden pressure, but she soon reciprocated the kiss with as soft of passion as he did. Both sets of lips cold from the frosted air, they were slowly warming each other up with each second that ticked by. It was slightly awkward, but totally perfect at the same time.

“You talk too much,” Bellamy spoke after he pulled away, his forehead resting against hers. He opened his eyes just in time to find Clarke nodding in agreement.

“Yeah. I know.”

Both stared at each other from the position, inklings of smiles etching on their lips. It was silent, minus the faint music from back in the bar and the sounds of the odd passer-by in the street, but it was like they were in a bubble.

“You don’t need to compare yourself to someone else, you know,” Bellamy began, breaking the silence. Clarke bit her lip as she shied away from his grip, but he moved to keep a strong but delicate hold on her waist. “Hey, I mean it. For some fucking weird reason, god knows why, I got along with you better in one night than I ever did in a whole two years with her. Or anyone for that matter.” He broke his speech slightly to gauge her reaction, watching as she looked at him with curious eyes. “You’re not her, okay? And the asshole who played you and left you for her is going to rue the day he did, because you are a damn catch Clarke Griffin, even with your null medical degree, and bartending job.” That provoked a giggle from her and a beaming smile from him.

A beat passed in silence before Clarke spoke up.

“So, you were going to ask me out just as I went off on a little tangent this morning?”

“Mm. Rudely interrupted me, you did.”

Clarke’s laughter was all that was needed to ignite a spark in his throat. He pulled back slightly, watching her as she stood before him with wide eyes and a hesitant smile – the epitome of adorable, Bellamy wanted nothing but to hold this girl and quite frankly never let her go.

“Maybe you should ask me again.”

Bellamy raised an eyebrow. Clarke smirked.

“Well, I was going to ask you to lunch and that hardly seem appropriate right now given the time of day,” Clarke rolled her eyes at his response and moved closer to place her hands on his shoulders, the small movement having him tighten his grip on her waist. “But, there’s an ice-cream parlour down the road. 24 hour.”

“Is that your way of asking?” She asked with raised eyebrows and a teasing smirk.

“Jesus Christ,” he mumbled, tipping his head back in a laugh. “Clarke, would you like to accompany me to the shitty ice-cream parlour down the road on a fucking weird as hell first date?” He teased.

She spoke up after a beat. “Hmm, I’ll have to think about it.”

He narrowed his eyes down at her and was met with a fitful burst of laughter spilling over her lips. Bellamy rolled his eyes, fondly.

“Of course I will,” She settled for in the end and Bellamy grinned. He pulled away from her slightly to grasp at her hand instead, pulling her into his side, motioning with the other hand down the snow-filled street.

It was halfway down the street Bellamy piped up. “How are we going to tell the grandkids how we met?”

“Oh, my god,” was the elusive response he got through muffled laughter.

Next thing he knew, Clarke’s lips were on his in the middle of the snow-filled street for anyone to see and he had a feeling he could get used to this.

 

. . .

 

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I googled witty cards against humanity combinations to get the ones in the game bc I am trash. I also googled most of the do’s and dont’s they both listed, or got them directly from the movie, I aint very creative.
> 
> I hope this was somewhat amusing for you!! It was fun to write tbh, I needed to get something fluffy and cute out of my system. Congrats for getting to the end of this story, I’m thanking y’all in virtual hugs.


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